


Mercenary Hearts

by Califi62



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Post-Season/Series 04 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27778762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Califi62/pseuds/Califi62
Summary: Mercenaries for hire, Angel and Spike’s latest ‘contract’ leads them to Sunnydale. They end up fighting the next Big Bad alongside the Scoobies. A/S first appearance in Sunnydale. (No Angel or Spike involvement pre-S4)
Relationships: Angel & Cordelia Chase, Daniel "Oz" Osbourne/Willow Rosenberg, Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. New York. 1999

[](https://imgur.com/WZVj0bz)

"Are we gonna go in there and kill 'em, or just act like ruddy virgins at an orgy?" Spike asked **,** rolling his eyes when Angel lifted a silencing hand in response, his dark eyes fixed on the grubby window of the derelict warehouse.

"There are too many," Angel finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. "Let's wait until they split up." A statement, rather than a suggestion, Spike noticed sourly.

"Then it'll take bloody forever to find 'em again." He shifted impatiently on the crate he'd found to sit on. He'd never been one to avoid a fight, regardless of the odds, and he was getting antsy just waiting. He could think of better places to hang out than this particular area of New York.

He hated the smell of harbor water. It brought back too many bad memories of his not-so brief reign of terror in the murky Docklands of England.

The dark haired vampire beside him hadn't so much as twitched a muscle since they'd ended up on the outside looking in, and that just pissed him off more. Oh, he could do the impression of a tree alright, but that meant being still. Which soon led to boredom... "Shoulda brought popcorn", he muttered under his breath. At least eating would take the edge off.

"Sod it. I'm going in." Spike dropped his half-smoked cigarette and rose lithely to his feet.

*

They'd been tracking the group of demons hiding out in the warehouse for several weeks, and had been more than irritated earlier to find out there were at least half a dozen more than the seven the paperwork had stated.

Although that put the kibosh on ending it tonight, being pissed had nothing to do with being outnumbered, and everything to do with the price agreed upon. Angel was more than tempted to stick to the original number and let the ones who'd hired them sort out the others themselves.

But his decision to wait it out until the group broke up a little and pick out their marks then, was just about to hit the crapper.

Angel cursed a blue streak, as the hand reaching out to stop the impetuous vampire wasn't quick enough and grasped thin air.

"I'll _kill_ the scrawny bastard" Angel swore under his breath as he headed rapidly towards the doorway his partner had just kicked open. _If he isn't already dead_ , he thought as the sound of raised, guttural voices, roars and crashing grew to an ungodly level.

***

"Fuck it!" The curse tore from him. Angel's blood-coated hand slipped on the length of wood jammed between his ribs jolting it higher. Sweat popped onto his brow as he realized how close the buried shaft was to his heart.

Gritting his teeth, he eased it out an inch at a time, groaning aloud when it finally pulled free and his borrowed blood sluggishly filled the jagged hole. Dropping the wood to the ground next to him, he finally lifted his dark head and scanned the gloomy warehouse, dilated eyes briefly resting on every dead demon sprawled on the filthy floor.

Counting up six, a growl of annoyance rumbled his powerful chest, changing pitch as he attempted to get to his feet. Blood starting pissing out of his wound, and with a grunt, Angel slumped back onto the floor, his back propped against a wall. Only two of the dead were in the contract. Just great.

Resigning himself to the fact that he'd be going nowhere for at least several hours, he settled as comfortably as he could and tried not to think too much about the distinct lack of a bleached-blonde's head amidst the carnage **.**

_Sunnydale University. 1999_

"So... Could you tell me if we need to help you file for assistance?" The woman smiled in what Cordelia guessed was the "I'm-your-friend-trust-me' look. These people probably worked on constantly to get it just right.

"What do you mean by that?"

The smile quickly faded. Obviously it wasn't working this time. "Ah...assistance. Public assistance. Do you have a job?"

Cordelia nodded instantly **,** an expression of pride on her face.

"Yup. Got a job. I work at the cafeteria at the University. You ever been there? I'm the beverage girl. See, I get there really early in the morning, 6:30 am, and I start these big huge urns of coffee. And I make the iced teas. And the lemonade, too. And I have my afternoons all to myself cause I get off around three. It's great, to get off work and it's still like practically the middle of the day!" She finished breathlessly and then sat back, folding her arms tight across her chest.

"So you don't need to apply for public assistance." This caused a dark frown to crease Cordelia's normally smooth brow as she glared.

"I just told you. I've got a job." Narrowed eyes stared back. After years in her job, she was pretty much used to antagonism. Then she blinked and finally broke contact, dropping her eyes to the open file on her lap.

"Let's see... 'Recently released from...Women's penitentiary. Probation for a year...' That's what it says here, in your record." Pointed out so calmly that Cordelia had to stifle the urge to yank the file from her and throw it across the room.

"Now, could you tell me about this attempt to steal the Christ Child out of the rectory of the University Lutheran—"

"Didn't steal nothing."

The young woman blinked rapidly at the vehement tone in the voice that interrupted her. "Sorry?"

Cordelia's expression was tight with anger, defensiveness in every line of her body. "Who says I stole? I didn't steal nothing ... Anything." She added reluctantly after a pause.

RINGGGG!

"That's it for today's rehearsal. Thank you, Cordelia, Tara. Very well done, now don't forget, study, people!" Closing the book on his desk with a snap, Mister Barnes eyed his underclassmen with a stink eye before leaning down and grabbing the tattered old briefcase next to his chair. "I want this scene wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon. Get to it." With a quick flick of his hand, he left the room without looking back.

Chairs scraped across the floor as students got to their feet and made a mass exodus to the open door.

"That was really good, I wish I could just..." she shrugged before continuing, "Forget everyone else was watching when I'm up there." Tara took her time rising. Walking back to her desk, she slid her books and notes carefully into the hold all she'd pulled off the back of her chair.

"You were great. And like I've said before, just imagine everyone in their underwear. Works for me," Cordelia's grin turned into a grimace. "Then again, maybe not such a good idea where Mister Barnes is concerned. Can I say eww?" Tara laughed, pushing in her chair before walking over to join the brunette at her desk.

Reaching out quickly to grab a book that tried to slide off the top in protest, as things were stuffed into a large purse haphazardly, Tara held onto it until everything else disappeared, then handed it over. "What do you have planned tonight?" she asked as they made their way out of the now empty room at a more leisurely pace than the other students had.

Pulling a face, Cordelia shrugged with a sigh. "Dinner with mother and daddy," her bottom lip pushed out a little. "They're off to Sicily tonight. Business trip thrown in with a little sightseeing." She shrugged again, outwardly unconcerned, but Tara picked up on the hidden pique.

"Didn't they get back from Hawaii not long ago?" she asked, shifting her hold all more securely on her shoulder. Cordelia nodded glumly. "I'm sorry." It hadn't taken Tara long to become aware of the girl's parents love of travelling- and their distinct lack of parenting skills.

In the months since they'd first met and become friends, they must have left the Country at least half a dozen times. Cordelia blithely stated that it was 'the norm' and it could have been worse: better than having abusive parents.

Tara's own father had been a coldly authoritarian figure. The latent abilities that had been passed on by her mother, a powerful Witch hadn't helped. After her mother died, it became ten times worse. The stammer that became apparent whenever feeling threatened or anxious was just one result. Admittedly, after meeting the brunette and subsequently joining the same Drama Class, she found it had helped.

Cordelia shook off her mini funk, leaning over to nudge the blonde girl with a grin. "It's not your fault they decided to ask me if I wanna go half way through a semester." The grin faltered for a second. "Dammit, I've always wanted to go there," she whined. Tara patted her arm consolingly, and then dug into her jean jacket pocket.

"Twinkie?" she proffered a slightly squished candy bar, and then grinned at first the look of horror, quickly followed by guilty greed as Cordelia took it, then Tara pulled out another bar and unwrapped it.

"Don't think I won't remember this when I'm as big as a hippo and have to buy two seats on the next plane I ever get to travel on," she warned between bites. Both girls giggled as they sauntered down the rapidly emptying corridor of Sunnydale University.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The small scene in the class came from NOVEMBER WOMEN, a one-act play by Kate McGrath.
> 
> MH was started quite a long time ago. Only recently did I decide to pull it up and attempt to finish- after a fair bit of rework on parts completed. I am hoping to be able to actually finish it this time around. Looking at 20+ chapters in total. Wish me luck (I'm going to need it!)


	2. 2: Main Street, Sunnydale

"God, I don't think I have room for ice cream after that," Buffy groaned, rubbing her middle soothingly as she walked out of the Pizza Parlor.

"If that's your way of saying you want me to pay for the cold creamy goodness, forget it." Xander gave her a warning look as he shrugged into his jacket. "I got the pizza," he reminded. Buffy rolled her eyes before poking him in the ribs lightly with her elbow, grinning at his exaggerated 'ooph'.

"And here was I thinking that the man was supposed to buy," She snarked, tongue in cheek.

His chest puffed out a bit: _she called me a man_! "Guys only shell out when it's a date." The cheeky grin slipped a little as awkwardness worked its way to the surface. "This _isn't_ a date – is it?" Mentally kicking himself for making it a question, Xander gave a quick sideways look and flushed a little when wide startled eyes collided with his.

Her on-off relationship with Owen ended weeks before their high school had been reduced to a pile of blackened stone. Being a slayer meant secrecy and broken dates, to name but a few issues when it came to having a normal life. And it seemed boyfriends were definitely out.

Xander _was_ unique. He'd been in the know from almost as long as her arrival in Sunnydale. Buffy wasn't quite sure if her feelings had evolved from best friend to...maybe more?

His weird relationship with Cordelia had admittedly, not sat that well with her. _Hello?_ Who could blame her? Queen C, the Bitch from Hell. Self-proclaimed boy slayer.

Then being caught swapping saliva in the depths of Sunnydale library of all places – with Willow... A one-off, her friends had later insisted. A crazed moment when faced with a horrible death by the hands of a vampire that had invaded the school while they were alone researching together. They'd hid in the stacks. Thankfully Buffy and the others had returned from patrol before he found them, but they'd been caught macking by an anxious Oz and Cordelia who'd rushed ahead as Buffy dealt with the vampire.

Oz had, fortunately for Willow, forgiven her. Unlike Cordelia, who dumped him and made him suffer for ages. A teeny tiny part of her sympathized. If her Owen had done it, she doubted she would have reacted differently. Still, there hadn't really been a need to drag it out so long.

She loved Xander. But wasn't IN love with him... Had she been sending mixed signals? What was she supposed to say when he was obviously waiting for an answer? _No, don't be daft, we're best friends,_ A bit harsh, maybe... but true.

Giving a mental shake Buffy instead changed the subject. "So what flavor ice cream are you gonna have?" She plastered a big smile on her face and deliberately ignored the stifled sigh that left him.

Xander kicked a bottle lid absently while he attempted to shove down the urge to confront the abrupt shift in atmosphere between them. He knew they'd have to talk about whatever it was that was that was going on – or _not_ going on, soon. Just not right now. Lifting his head, he turned to respond when something caught his eye. "Uh oh, trouble."

Buffy instantly followed his gaze and stiffened as her eyes locked onto two shadowy figures several meters away down the dark alleyway they'd been about to pass. Reaching round the back of her jeans, she pulled out a stake and changed direction. Xander followed closely with a frown and whispered,; "How did you manage to sit down with that in your pants?" Then shrugged and concentrated on the scene ahead.

"You see what happens when you overdo the cologne? You guys never learn." Buffy quipped, eying the unconscious girl held close to one of the large, leather-skinned bodies while she figured out how to safely rescue. Xander concentrated on widening the gap between them and sidled along the wall, his eyes pinned on the demons as he attempted to get behind them.

On hearing her voice, both demons had turned to face her; the one holding the girl stepped back until his cohort was almost in front of him. He sniffed the air and grimaced. "A slayer," he hissed gutturally.

The one who'd taken up a protective stance half turned his large head to flick a quick glance behind him. "Let's go. Leave the human," he ordered harshly. The other held the girl closer. "But we need sacrifi-"

"Fogd be a pofádat! idióta" he snarled at his companion, then turned to face her. "We do not wish for trouble, Slayer".

"Then put the girl down and back off," she suggested with a slight shrug. The one holding the girl glared defiantly then quickly threw her over his heavy shoulder. Buffy sighed. "Ookay, if that's the way you want it," after exchanging a quick glance with Xander they both moved as one.

Xander looked around the dark alley for something to use as a weapon while the Slayer charged the empty handed demon. Just as he spotted and grabbed a length of rusty pipe, the other demon had started to make good his escape with the girl.

Checking quickly behind him and finding that Buffy was still busy with the other demon, Xander weighed up his choices and then decided a slightly injured victim was better than a dead one and ran forward, swinging the heavy pipe.

The demon grunted loudly as the metal caught the side of its head, but it still doggedly held onto the girl. Groaning in frustration, Xander jogged ahead and turned, in the hope of blocking his quarry and stave until Buffy had dealt with the other one.

Shaking its big head, the demon eyed him for a moment through lidless eyes before its thin lips spread into what was obviously a sneer but looked more like a grimace, revealing small yellow and very sharp looking teeth. It shifted the girl into a more secure hold and then advanced.

Xander gulped, but refused to budge. Pipe at the ready as the demon got closer, one of its large hands curled into an impressive fist.

His anxious eyes sought out Buffy's' whereabouts and he swallowed thickly when realizing she was too busy fighting to come to his aid. His split second distraction cost him. The demon was now only a foot away and he raised the pipe to shoulder level, wondering how the hell he'd be able to use it to its full potential with the girl in the way.

And then a small pair of hands appeared either side of the demon's head, which was abruptly yanked in the opposite direction with a sickening crunch. Relief filled Xander even as he rushed forward when the large figure began to crumple to the ground, managing to grab the girl round the waist before it hit the floor.

Surprised brown eyes met wry green when he lifted his head. "Thanks. For the help" he added.

"No probs. The other scaly ran off. What a wuss."

Keeping hold of the arms she'd grabbed at the same time Xander had moved, Buffy steadied the girl, who was now slowly coming round, while Xander settled her feet on the ground.

"So much for an ice cream pig out," she grumbled.

****

_Chase Mansion_

As Cordy sat at her vanity applying makeup, her thoughts drifted. Initially wondering how Tara was getting on at the Library. She hated leaving her alone with Buffy and the rest of the motley crew.

Not that she was worried that they'd ever hurt her. A few nights after introducing Tara, she'd cornered Buffy in the Library bathroom. Had told her she'd better not take advantage of her sweet nature by roping her into group patrols. And under NO circumstances were any of them to suggest she'd make great Bait or ask her to do it.

She hadn't liked that at all, and hotly asked how Cordy could possibly think she'd even consider it. Under her cynical gaze coupled with the lift of a single fine brow, Buffy had at least the grace to look uncomfortable. Then spoilt it by saying "Anyway, it's different." _She's not you_. The unsaid words hung between them like a dark pall. Then she gave a stiff nod and curtly promised before stalking out of the bathroom.

The others had been openly stunned when Cordy first arrived at a meet with her a few weeks after striking up a surprisingly easy friendship. It wasn't that hard to imagine what went through their minds: chalk and cheese. _Good and Evil_. She'd noted the furtively shared glances.

Buffy had offered up a tight smile before hurriedly pulling her into a far corner, her face now showing a scowl. "What the hell are you doing?" she'd demanded in a harsh whisper.

"You think I'd bring someone here if they weren't already in the loop?" She'd asked with an arched brow. "Trust me. Tara knows that monsters under the bed actually exist." Cordy then went on to reveal that a few days earlier, her friend had saved her life out in the university car park. "I'd be vamp chow right now if she hadn't come along." Her voice raised enough for the others to hear every word.

She explained how her arms had been full of books. Totally unprepared for the sneak attack. Luckily for her she'd arranged to meet Tara at her car -and Thank God she'd come in time to scare off the vampire with a 'really impressive' Sunlight-effect spell.

Willow, who'd listened with interest as their discussion played out, immediately turned her inquisitive eyes on Tara. "You're a Witch?" After the hesitant nod of confirmation, her earlier pale smile had widened with real warmth. Admitting to 'dabbling' herself, Willow went on to ask if she'd heard about the local Wicca group run by some of the older students...

Fair enough, it had created more than a twinge of jealousy watching the redhead attempt to draw her friend into a conversation. But she'd damped the feeling down. It wasn't her place to choose Tara's friends. Even if one of them happened to be Willow Cheating Rosenberg.

After initially sizing Tara up, thankfully Xander hadn't followed it up by trying out his pathetic chat-up lines. Her friend had been through enough traumas in her life without him adding to them.

After explaining her on-the-outside-looking-in place in the group dynamics, Cordy had admitted to not exactly making any effort to be truly accepted. The only connection originally had more to do with the guy she'd been dating at the time. Her friend's eyes had widened in horror when told of her unofficial job title, the first gig shortly after joining the Scoobies as "Xander's girlfriend".

Cordy had been bluntly honest from the start with Tara regarding her not so pleasant past behavior. A Stuck up little rich girl with no real care for anyone but herself, her clothes, and her car. Not to mention taking her affluent life for granted. Yep, she'd been titled Queen Bitch for a reason, and had been very proud of it.

But then it had almost all changed. Pre-Graduation, personal family issues had brought with it a few home truths. Finding out that her parents had been close to ruin; thanks to their ass-wipe Accountant being caught with his hands in the till things had taken a scary turn. Luckily for them, an IRS Audit picked up on it.

Said ass-wipe ended up doing a long stretch in prison, and most of the missing money had been retrieved. Cordy's grandparents had stepped in and had helped to clear the owed taxes.

But it had taken several months of uncertainty before it was sorted out. Having no-one to talk to about it had brought home to her both her serious lack of real friends, and the fact she was a really horrible person. Talk about having an epiphany. A pity it had to have taken that to turn her life around.

The best thing she'd ever had in her life so far, was true friendship- with Tara McClay.


	3. University Library

After an earlier meeting with the Wicca group, and nothing much else to do, what with Cordelia being out with her parents and her assignments done and dusted, Tara had agreed to accompany Willow to the Library.

The redhead had related that Buffy and Xander had gone out for food, but Oz was meeting her at the library. Willow had grinned with pleasure when finding him already there. They exchanged a light kiss before settling down at the main library table, not noticing as she took her usual spot at a smaller table on the sidelines.

Tara settled comfortably in her chair and proceeded with what she did best: inconspicuously observing her surroundings- and right now, it was focused the group she'd become a part of since meeting Cordelia Chase.

Well, Tara didn't really see herself as a _part_ of the group. More like the really tiny names you saw at the last bit of ending movie credits.

There was history between Cordy and the group. The redhead, Willow Rosenberg who, like her, was a pretty accomplished Witch. Her boyfriend, Oz; who, she was told, became a werewolf once a month. And the petite blonde girl, Buffy Summers, who, she'd earlier found out, was a supernaturally enhanced being going by the 'Official' title of Vampire Slayer.

_The one girl chosen to rid the world of vampires_....and any other monsters she came across. Only there wasn't just _one_ girl currently. Not that any of them talked about it. Except for Cordy. Not much besides her name being Faith -and the pleasure she'd taken at the way the other Slayer had put Buffy's nose out of joint; hating the fact that "She wasn't that 'special' anymore", as her friend succinctly put it. Unfortunately, Faith had subsequently left town under a very dark cloud.

Then there was Xander Harris: Cordy's ex 'Cheating Rat' boyfriend, as she'd called him once in conversation. Watching the interaction between the two other girls and Xander had filled in quite a few gaps. It said a lot more to Tara than anything her friend had.

She was pretty certain that his worshipful regard for the Slayer and over-protectiveness of Willow wasn't something new. Understanding to a large degree why *that* particular relationship had been doomed from the start. In Tara's opinion, Cordy deserved more than coming third place. Hell, anyone did!

The Head Librarian, Rupert Giles apparently had two jobs: the one at the University -and the other as apparently being some kind of mentor. Formally known as a 'Watcher', he'd been sent to the High school with the 'cover' of Librarian. Thus, was ready for Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale. A weird Title, 'Watcher', she'd thought at the time when it was divulged. Mister Giles- or 'Giles' as everyone in the group called him definitely did a lot more than watch.

His credentials were admirable: A vast knowledge of the supernatural. A Fighting Instructor, Research Guy. A fatherly type figure who gave Buffy his support, and shoulder to cry on.

Meeting Cordy by chance in the halls of University in her second week had been nothing short of a blessing. Being painfully shy, Tara had stuck to her usual avoidance tactics and had attempted to blend in. But being a pretty girl with soft blonde hair and lush curves obviously worked against the ability to do so. She'd filled out quite a lot in the time between High School and the first day of Uni.

A heavy come-on by one of the older students had quickly become unpleasant when she'd awkwardly turned him down. The aggressive vibes pouring off him had her cringing against the wall, inwardly panicking. Until divine intervention (well, right then, it had felt pretty divine) saved her.

A voice cool enough to freeze the air, had cut through the tense atmosphere in the deserted corridor and put the would-be groper in his place quick smart. Tara had watched with sheer relief and quiet admiration as the young woman reduced the 180 lb. jock to a quivering wreck.

He'd rapidly disappeared with his tail between his legs. She'd glared after his retreating figure before turning with a warm smile, asking her if she was okay. Recognition of her face came quickly to Tara, realizing that she'd seen her before- in one of her Psych Classes.

The others had seemed pole-axed when Cordy introduced her to the 'Scoobies' several weeks after becoming friends. The blonde, Buffy, had nodded a brief hello and had quickly taken Cordy to one side. Even from across the room she- and the others could hear every word.

It was fortunate for the group that the library had been deserted. News had spread like wildfire through the University halls the last couple of days, that a popular band had arrived in Sunnydale, and that they were doing a gig at The Bronze that night.

The Scoobies had found out pretty quickly that although relatively new, their friendship and loyalty was already near-unshakeable. Any friendship seemed unlikely where Cordelia Chase was concerned -according to the Scoobies.

They'd wondered how it was possible. They were so unalike. It was said in a way that only just missed being snide by what looked to be real confusion in their wide eyes. Tara turned it around by asking "Why? Aren't _you_ her friends?"

The disbelief on their faces had been disconcerting when she'd added that although only knowing Cordy a short time, she'd found her to be kind hearted- and was also 'interesting' to be around.

Xander Harris' "'Are we suddenly in an alternative Universe?" comment had her zipping her lip, deciding to keep her personal opinions to herself. Seeing her closed expression, they'd wisely backed off.

Cordy had admitted to being a 'total bitch' through High School. One of the reasons she mostly put up with their lowly opinion of her. Although she still had her moments. "Tact is just not saying true stuff. I'll pass," she'd added with a grin.

On the first of many times Cordy had invited Tara to her home, they'd spent quite a while chatting about their University Course choices. While the brunette had declared her Major in Theatre (Acting), and class in Psych, Tara had opted for Psychobiology, which dealt with the biological basis of behavior and mental phenomena.

Cordy admitted that though having a knack for reading people, She'd chosen a Psych module in an attempt to change her 'feel my pain' mentality, in a bid to encompass others people's issues. Her explanation led to Tara confiding about her own struggles – among other things, the crippling shyness that dogged her.

It was in that moment her friend had suggested she join one of her classes. Cordy had done it herself with Psych. Audit classes were offered at any level of study within the University. Students did this for a number of reasons, such as general interest, or to broaden their learning either within or in addition to their main discipline area. The only downside was that you didn't receive an academic credit.

"Mister Barnes is mostly a pain in the ass," she'd declared with a sniff. "But also brilliant at what he does." At first Tara had been uncertain. Standing in front of a Class group sounded pretty daunting. But after reminding her that "Hey, we're all new to it, and there isn't a judge-y atmosphere. Just try it _one_ time," Cordy suggested, then shrugged, saying, "and if you hate it, you don't have to go back."

As it turned out, it hadn't been too bad. Each time after that initial attempt, Tara found that already her tendency to stammer had lessened in small degrees.

After much contemplation, Tara also decided to take up Willow on her suggestion to join the Wicca group. The girl had pestered her for several nights after first mentioning it, and seemed genuinely pleased when she'd agreed.

Cordy had asked if it was really what she wanted. Knowing Tara wasn't one to deal with a chatterbox like Willow Rosenberg -whose ability to talk anyone under a table was a given, she'd offered to step in. Tara declined, assuring that she definitely wanted to go purely out of interest in the group. She went on to point out that the rehearsal class had helped her 'deal' a little better in group situations.

It also gave Tara a feeling of some independence. As well as not wanting Cordy ever to maybe think of her as a crusty old barnacle stuck on a ship's hull. A small grin touched her pretty mouth as she imagined the response to that thought. What with Cordy having Self-defense classes, as well as the weapons training she'd managed to guilt Mister Giles into agreeing to, several months before, it made sense to have her own interests.

Comfortable enough with solitude, Tara had no issues with spending her spare time just sitting quietly on the edges of social gatherings. Plus she saw Cordy more than she used to- since taking up the new class. She was actually thankful for the well-established 'clique-yness' the others had: being too involved with their own dramas and interests to think of pulling her in. That left plenty of time to observe them at her leisure.

Her thoughts were wrenched to the present when the library doors crashed open. All eyes turned and widened at the rumpled state of the pair who stumbled in.

"Houston, we have a problem," Buffy blew at a loose tendril of hair, her face a little bruised, and expression highly pissed.

"They've run out of Rocky Road at the Ice cream Parlor?" Willow's weakly witty comment broke the stunned silence.


	4. Chapter 4

"From your description I have vague idea of the kind of demons you faced," Giles spoke as he rose from his seat at one of the large study tables scattered around the vaulted library. "But I'll need to double check. Hold on a moment," he told them absently and headed off towards his office.

Buffy looked around with a slight frown on her face, until her eyes landed on Tara, who was still tucked away at a smaller, nearby table. "Where's Cordelia?" she asked after a perfunctory smile and nod.

"She-she's out with her parents- for dinner," Tara replied, responding with a small smile of her own, which dried up instantly on seeing the resulting scowl on the blonde's face.

While initially wondering why she would ask in the middle of a crisis, the scowl darkened as Buffy continued on. "Damn; we could really do with her tonight," understanding dawned and Tara had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, Cordelia fashion. Giles appeared carrying an old, tattered tome, and a newspaper

"Unfortunately I was wrong. The one I'd considered has the right coloring and build, but it also has a small curved horn atop his head." Disappointment apparent his tone, and then asked. "Are you sure it didn't..?" Buffy instantly shook her head. He sighed.

"One of them said something weird," Xander suddenly recalled. "It called its happy helper a 'Foggy Polkadot' ... or something like that. Oh, and 'idiot'." He definitely understood that word. The creep had let the cat out the bag that the girl was supposed to be a sacrifice. No wonder it freaked.

Giles eyebrows rose in confusion, and then asked "Foggy Polkadot? You didn't mention polka dotted skin."

"No polka dots to be found," Buffy reassured him. "Um, maybe it was talking in its demony language." she suggested. "And it was more like ... Foggeyed be a Polkadot, idiot. I think." then began to wonder if it really mattered. The only bit that was important was the word 'Sacrifice'.

"It still makes no sense whatsoever", Muttered Giles, stumped. With a slight shake his head, he added "I think it best that I remain here and do a little more research, while the rest of you go out on patrol." Resuming his seat, he placed the book in front and the newspaper to one side.

"If I find anything relevant, I'll call you- you have your cell, yes?" he asked, his already distracted gaze lifting briefly, in time to see Buffy pull it out of her back pocket and wave it at him. "Good. Make sure it's turned on this time." Buffy rolled her eyes before nodding.

"-And not smashed to smithereens," he added pointedly, again looking up from the pages of cramped text.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Buffy pouted. "I get thrown around a lot in this gig."

Giles cocked his head to one side before replying; "If I recall, the last time you happened to break it, was whilst you were fighting over a slice of pizza with Xander." A flush stained her cheeks even as the pout melted into a grimace.

Giles suddenly grabbed the newspaper. "Before you go," his words halted their mass exodus. Opening it and laying it open on the table, he continued. "I saw an article in here this morning which may have some relevance to the situation..."

***

"Sorry that we have to love and leave you, darling, but the flight from Sunnydale leaves for LAX in less than two hours. You know how airports are about passengers arriving at the last minute." Mrs. Chase checked her watch even as she threw an apologetic smile towards her daughter in the back.

"No problem. I'm heading straight for a long bath anyway," Cordy replied as she opened the rear door to climb out of her parent's Jaguar. Her father reached over to pat her knee.

"Are you sure you can't come along?" He asked, ignoring his wife's reminder of the time. "It isn't too late, sweetheart, I can arrange for a ticket to be held for you at the airport. You could meet us at our hotel tomorrow, or in a day or two?" Cordy shook her head; a wry smile tilted her mouth.

"Sorry, Daddy, but I have way too many assignments to even get away for a weekend," she leaned into the car and dropped a grateful peck on his cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Have fun, and don't forget to bring me back a bottle of vintage, okay?" she gave his arm a playful squeeze, then leaned in to kiss the air next to her mother's rouged cheek.

"You won't be able to open it for another few years," her mother reminded her with a regal lift of an arched brow, missing the sly wink and stifled smile father and daughter exchanged.

A minute later the car pulled off and Cordy couldn't help but sigh longingly as she watched the taillights fade and vanish out of sight. With another heartfelt sigh and a pout that would have impressed Buffy Summers, she turned wearily towards the short flight of steps to her front door. She muttered an oath when the tinny strains of "Sour Girl" broke the silence.

Was a demon-free night off too much to ask? With an irritated scowl, Cordy reached into her purse. Extracting her cell she flipped it open. "What's up?" The scowl deepened. "I'll just go cha- riiiight." She closed the phone with a snap and glared at it with venom.

"No time! You're needed pronto!" her voice rising in an exaggeration of Buffy's. Shoving the cell in her purse, she dug out her keys, and about turned before stalking towards the garage.

"I knew I should've gone to Baruch!"

****

The edge of Town, Sunnydale.

Cordy eyed the dense trees that lined the side of the highway with misgiving before frowning down at her attire: a floaty chiffon skirt and strappy silk top. She was grateful at least, for the incongruous looking tennis shoes she'd found in the trunk of her car.

Damn. "You could have at least let me change into something a little less 'pet me, I'm available'", she griped at Buffy, flicking a killing glare towards Xander at his snide comment that being available was something she was particularly good at. There were long lists of valid reasons besides cheating, to dump him when she did.

"Look. They're probably gonna try for another victim tonight," Buffy replied; acidly adding "If they haven't already- which is why we didn't have time for you to go through your store-sized closet," ignoring the angry arch of the brunette's brow.

Why did Cordy get the feeling that she'd get the blame if it turned out they already had? What a bitch! Catching Tara's eye, and the slight 'let it go, it isn't worth it' shake of her head, she pushed out a calming breath; "Any idea where these big n scalies are gonna be?"

Buffy shook her head. "Nu-uh. But Giles said he'd read in the Tribune that some teens were frightened off from this area early yesterday evening."

"But this is the hellmouth, Buff. Things like that happen all the time," Xander piped up. Buffy flipped the stake she always seemed to have on demand; causing Tara to wonder if she also took it in the bath with her.

"That's true Xan, but you heard what Giles said. The attackers were humongous, and 'badly disfigured'- and it was still pretty light when it happened, which totally rules out the usual suspects." Buffy reminded him. "So I reckon here is a good place to start." She turned to Cordy; "These demons are after a girl, – and right now, you're her" she added bluntly.

Cordy grit her teeth. Although things were less confrontational between them since the High school blew up, there still existed a not-so vague edge of bitch. She couldn't help but notice the way her tone markedly softened when answering her ex.

Personally, she felt that they deserved each other. Not forgetting the fact that Xander had always put the bottled blonde ahead of her when he was her boyfriend. That was yet another reason on her list. And also the dawning realization that she wasn't in love with him. Had she really ever been? Or simply reacting to his swimsuit-clad body at the time? Hormones, plain and simple.

"There's a small clearing just past those trees." Buffy continued on, pulling her out of her thoughts. She pointed it out. "You head towards it. We'll follow behind and watch your back." She assured the brunette when seeing hesitation.

"What about my front?" Cordy muttered under her breath, turning away from the group and headed for the trees. Wondering, not for the first time, why she agreed to be permanent Bait Girl? "Sounds so *not* like a well-thought out plan" she whispered nervously to herself as the clearing came into sight. They were too far behind for her liking.

Buffy stride faltered briefly. Those were definitely tinglies. She only got them when vamps were in the vicinity. Oh well, two birds with one stake she thought with a slight shrug... and then a high-pitched yell filled the air.

She rushed on ahead, leaving the others trailing behind. Her attention focused on Cordy as she left the trees behind her. The brunette was struggling with a demon that looked identical to the ones earlier. She absently noted that She was doing pretty well with the staving – skidding suddenly to an abrupt halt.

"Well, crap!"

The others caught up and stopped too. There was more than one. A quick head count: 8 of them. All seemingly content to watch the spectacle of a human girl attempting to kick a divot into the one who'd grabbed her.

"A little help here!" The yelp shook Buffy out of her shock and she took a flying leap toward the struggling pair, landing on the demon's back. The jolt caused the demon to lose his grip on Cordy, who instantly dropped to the grass and rolled to her feet.

The others spread out in a small semi-circle.

Oz lifted the crossbow he'd brought along and waited for a clear shot, and as soon as the demon faced him; Buffy still on its back; took aim and fired. Willow winced and ewwed under her breath at the sloopy, cracking sound made as the bolt jammed through its eye socket. The demon dropped like a stone. Buffy landed gracefully next to it, only pausing to give it a hard nudge with her booted foot before throwing Oz a quick grin.

And then all hell broke loose.

The death of the first demon seemed to act as a catalyst. The remaining demons had been just as surprised to see the Slayer and the others as they were and had frozen in their tracks- until their comrade hit the ground.

Cordy took a step forward, about to make her way over to Tara, who now stood alone. She was holding onto a crossbow for her, and brandishing a short sword -but looking a little nervous about using it. Then Cordy's arm was captured in a painful hold. The demon that'd grabbed her swung her round roughly but she used the impetus to kick high and ram her heel into its gut.

She grimaced when all that got her was a slight ooph. "I should've kept my kitten heels on."

Hooking a foot around the back of one of its knees, she yanked hard, and then her mouth opened in a dismayed yelp when, instead of falling backwards, the demon, who still held her upper arm lurched towards her bringing them both down.

Pinned between it and the ground, she couldn't avoid the large scaly palm that pressed down on her mouth and nose. No amount of heaving or kicking moved the great hulking beast. Game over. Just as stars started to appear in her vision, the weight of the hand -and demon abruptly vanished.

Only vaguely aware of a sharp snap sounding a few feet from her, Cordy sucked in much needed air. The sudden sensation of someone- or thing hovering over her caused her eyes to flicker open ... and she found herself looking into a shadowed, human face... Dark, yet glittering eyes held a touch of leering appreciation as they flicked over her before lifting again to lock with her dilated gaze.

The gleam of white teeth flashed for a moment and she blinked, still a little dazed. "Nice panties," a rich as velvet voice commented....


	5. Clearing in the woods

Rising lithely to his feet the stranger reached out to help her up. Amusement danced in his dark eyes. Cordelia's blush of mortification intensified and she roughly pushed the large pale hand away, her lovely face scrunching into a deep scowl. _Jerk_!

Climbing to her feet with as much grace as she could manage, Cordy attempted to ignore the tall, black-clad man standing a little too close for her liking and quickly tugged down the skirt that had twisted around her waist like a gauzy rope. Thank God! For her decision to wear silk panties instead of the sheer lace thong that had tempted her eye when she'd got ready for the restaurant earlier.

_This is all Buffy Summers fault_ , she thought resentfully. If the annoying girl had given her more notice, displaying her panties to the world- well, him and God knows who else, would never have happened.

Then she looked up. Just her luck: Tall, dark and sinfully handsome to boot, from what she could tell in the semi-darkness. Any other time, Cordy would have appreciated the sight of salty goodness- a rarity in this town, but at this moment all she wanted to do was cringe with embarrassment and smack the smirk off his full lips.

"Thanks." Her begrudging gratitude caused the smirk to widen into a sizzling smile that made her blink hard before looking away. _Hoo boy_! The guy must have been front of the queue when God was handing out the goodies.

"Glad to help," Angel eyed the young woman with open appreciation. From the top of her glossy head to the tips of her perfect toes, she fitted every one of his fantasies. Her rumpled appearance and flushed cheeks only added to the becoming picture, bringing illicit thoughts to his head.

When he'd turned from snapping the demon's neck and saw her sprawled out so enticingly, the urge to slide his hands up legs that seemed to go on forever had been difficult to quash. The need to touch was still strong, so he gave into it, running his fingers innocently along the hot flush of one cheek. Appeased for the moment, he asked, "Are you hurt?"

For a second, Cordy unconsciously leaned into the cool touch. Then her eyes widened in shock. _What the hell am I doing?!_ One touch of those fingers and her knees had turned to jelly. Sheesh. With a huff, she knocked his hand away, shook her head and took a step back. _Only my dignity_ , she thought with chagrin, recalling the first words he'd uttered and opened her mouth to rip into him.

Lucky for him, a short, sharp scream caught her attention. Cordy broke eye contact with him, and looked around his large body just in time to see one of the demons attempting to herd her now-alone friend towards the trees.

"OHMIGOD!" she cried, moving forward to push the dark-haired man out of the way. Then she froze as a blond guy appeared out of nowhere and jumped onto the demon's back. "What the...?"

"That's a vampire! " Sheer disbelief colored her tone. Her brow scrunched up in shock and confusion. She watched in horror as the demon still edged closer to Tara even as it struggled to dislodge the vampire on its back.

"This is just GREAT! First demons and now vamps are joining in." She took a second to glare up at the hulking figure still blocking her way and with an angry huff tried to slip around his unmoving body.

A powerful arm hooked her waist before Cordy had taken two steps, swinging round and depositing her back to her original spot. "He's with me," Angel replied vaguely, keeping hold of her wrist, and again blocking her way.

Cordy tugged at her arm and glared up at him. "With _you_?" Shaking her head in growing anger and confusion, the move dislodged the clip that had been holding her hair back. Broken in the tussle with the demon, it released its tenuous grip and the glossy strands fell to surround her flushed face.

Angel' gaze was instantly drawn to it, his nostrils flaring as the scent of apples enveloped him. A low sound of appreciation escaped his throat and caught her attention.

_Did he just_...? Cordy could have sworn she'd heard purring- then gasped. For a split second, she was almost certain she'd seen a flash of fang. _Jeeze,_ now she was seeing things. Putting it down to oxygen deprivation to her brain earlier that was affecting her, she shrugged it off and instead narrowed her gaze, tugging again at her captured arm.

"Well, if he's your friend, shouldn't you go help him out?" she asked pointedly, and peeked around him again. Even with the vampire on its back, the demon was still making ground towards Tara, who'd belatedly remembered the sword in her hand and was waving it in front of her haphazardly. "We so need to learn how to use those things," Cordy muttered anxiously, now tugging in earnest.

Angel flicked a look behind him and shrugged, seemingly uninterested. "He can hold his own." He grabbed her other wrist quickly when she gave up pulling and instead started clawing at his hand.

"Lemme go, you big bully, I want to help her." The demon roared when a lucky swing of Tara's sword-nicked it's face causing it to increase its efforts to dislodge the vampire who was raining punches down on its thick skull.

"You'll be of better help keeping out of it," Angel shifted to avoid the swift kick she aimed at his shin, a grin stretching his mouth. Feisty! He was really starting to like this little spitfire!

"Your friend will be okay," he assured her- then cursed under his breath when the blond vampire was abruptly thrown across the clearing. After giving itself a violent shake, the demon turned its attention back onto Tara, who had backed into a tree and was cornered.

"Maybe not," Angel muttered under his breath and moved so fast, Cordy blinked in shock before shouting worriedly, "Tara! Run!" She breathed a sigh of relief and an 'ewe' when Tall, Dark and Unfairly Yummy appeared behind the demon and removed its head effortlessly with a sword pulled from beneath his long leather duster.

After rescuing the gorgeous brunette, Angel kept her in his sights. He'd been impressed with how she'd defended herself. Not bad for a human. No match for the demons, but quick on her feet and flexible...boy was she flexible!

He had salivated at the thought of how that could come in handy in other ways. He'd had to force his thoughts out of the gutter and concentrate on the fight at hand, taking care not to hurt the humans that kept getting in his way.

The chaos continued, fast and furious for several more minutes, then after a lucky punch from the demon he'd been fighting had knocked him to the ground, it had taken off, along with two others – one injured by a bolt sticking out of its scaly shoulder. He dusted himself off as Spike tore out the throat of the last one. Nearby, the slayer looked ready to chase after the injured one before abruptly glancing over her shoulder towards her group.

With intense irritation, the vampires watched their marks scatter.

Now their second confrontation and only five killed and one injured between them, thanks to the humans who'd mostly got in the way. What the hell they were doing there? He wondered with a dark frown... The slayer, yeah; both vampires had been aware that one resided at this particular hellmouth, and had hoped to avoid bumping into her for obvious reasons.

Slayer blood gave off a different scent to normal humans. Potency and power. With vampires' preternatural sense of smell, it wasn't hard to miss. Especially for ones like themselves, who had a few centuries tucked under their belt. Fresh out of the grave, blood was simply blood. Nothing else really registered. They often missed it – to their misfortune.

But in all his long unlife, he'd never heard of one actively working in the field with humans in tow. Although she'd managed to kill two of demons, which narrowed down the numbers he and Spike had to deal with – but with the reckless help from the humans? Weren't slayers supposed to keep a low profile? _What the hell was the world coming to?_ Angel wondered shaking his dark head in disgust.

Several days earlier, after finding Spike who'd been shoved down a derelict elevator shaft at the New York Warehouse, the fall knocking him out cold, Angel had pulled him out. Both then had impatiently waited until the cover of darkness allowed them to continue their pursuit in Spike's Desoto. Earlier overhearing their discussion, they knew where to look.

What they hadn't expected was the sound of fighting- and the sight that met their stunned eyes. Slayers, depending on their experience would have picked up on them regardless. But vamping out hadn't helped, judging by the wary eyes of the others now aimed their way. _Just fucking great._

Angel walked over to retrieve his sword, but before he could grab it, a booted foot appeared in his line of vision and slammed down on the bloodied blade. He sighed silently and rose to his full height, backing up and leaving the weapon where it was. Equally wary brown eyes lifted to connect with the cold green of the Slayers.

"Who the hell are you? – And more importantly- why were you helping _us_?"

****

Spike appeared next to his partner in a blur of movement that made the humans jolt in nervous surprise. Buffy remained steady, used to their unnatural speed, but her eyes flicked from one to the other vampire warily.

"Who said we were helping?" Spike drawled "You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." He added with a casual shrug and pulled out a crabby pack of cigarettes, shook one out and lit it with a silver lighter showing signs of wear on its engraved surface.

They faced off in the now eerily quiet clearing. Buffy headed her group, who now congregated tightly behind her.

Angel eyed the crossbow that the redheaded youth, who didn't smell quite so human at closer quarters, had now levelled towards them- also taking note of the stake that had appeared abruptly in the Slayer's hand. "We've been after that particular clan for a while." He briefly explained that they'd originally tracked the demons to New York a few days before following them to Sunnydale.

"Good thing we showed up."

Buffy's back immediately went up at his scathing tone. "We could have taken them without your help," she responded coldly, even though inwardly she knew that was debatable, but they didn't have to know that. At the same time, it hit Buffy that these two were the reason her vampy tinglies had set off earlier.

Angel looked at her expressionlessly for a long moment before glancing around him pointedly. "She would have been dead by now." He gestured to Cordy, who scowled and folded her arms tight, but kept her mouth shut because, unfortunately, it was true. "Those two whelps were having a bit of trouble taking them on," Angel indicated Xander and Oz with a jerk of his dark head.

"Trying to babysit Little Red Riding Hood didn't help them much, either," Spike suddenly commented much to Willow's horror. He heard a stifled snikker from a certain brunette at that. "Little cutie over there was left alone," he added, and winked casually at Tara who found herself blushing like a preteen. She ducked her fair head and looked at the soft grass beneath her shoes.

Angel raked a hand through his dark spikey hair, unconsciously drawing Cordy's eyes. Her gaze then dropped to get a better look at his face. Although hard and pretty expressionless, she could see clearly an edge of violence in those almost black eyes. No revision on her initial thoughts; he _was_ gorgeous. But the whole being a walking corpse and blood sucking demon didn't sit at all well ... _Pity_! A small, disappointed sigh left her.

Watching him beating the crap out of one of demons earlier had been quite a turn on. For such a powerfully built guy, he'd moved with a feline grace that drew her admiring eyes. But it had been one hell of a shock when seeing his handsome face morph into ridges and fangs when the demon had got in a lucky punch.

Just her luck, she thought sourly. The only decent male around for ages and he had to be not only full of himself, but a _vampire_ to boot. Somebody up there surely hated her.

Angel pinned the Slayer with cold, hard eyes. "I get why you're here, Slayer, but bringing along humans? You're either new to the gig or just plain stupid," he chastised coldly.

A collective gasp echoed, and then Xander stepped forward, his youthful face twisted in defensive anger. "Back off, Dead Boy, it's none of your business how we do things around here."

Buffy swallowed the guilt as she thought how Tara had been separated from the rest of them in the midst of battle. She'd been so busy fighting- demons that had been pretty hard to kill, mind, that she hadn't noticed at the time. Their human frailty wasn't lost on her and it was a worry that still plagued on and off.

But she knew from past experience exactly what they'd say or do if she told them not to accompany her on patrol. They'd done it before, and if she'd hadn't have come across them when she had, Willow would have been dead- or undead after they'd been attacked by a small group of vampires. Better they were with her rather than worry they'd follow regardless of her demands.

Quashing her emotions on the subject for now, Buffy hardened her own gaze. The vamps had a valid point, but _'No way Jose'_ was she going to admit that to them. Instead she folded her arms and attempted to stare them both down.

It was so easy for these two interlopers to say that- not that she could understand why they'd helped- or why she was still standing there listening instead of staking their asses. Why the hell would these vampires have even the remotest feelings about anything but the kill- of humans?

"How I work is none of your business, Fangy," Buffy dropped her arms; one hand came to rest on her hip, the other unconsciously fiddled with the stake even as she eyed the two vampires with mistrust.

"What I wanna know is why you even helped us?" she lifted a hand when Spike opened his mouth to reply, "Yeah, I get it, blah blah woof woof, – but why not us- _me?_ I _am_ The Slayer; your natural enemy," she reminded them unnecessarily.

"We're here to kill a few troublesome demons, luv. Nothing more." Spike could see no reason to tell her that they were contracted out. They'd found long ago that Mercenaries weren't well-liked. Plus the fact it wasn't any of her damned business.

On seeing her mouth open, he raised his hands in mock surrender and took a step back, his expression now reflecting growing boredom. "We'll be off now. Got some escapees to find." He added, half-turning with the strong need to put as much distance as he could between them.

The girl and what she stood for brought bad memories back to the surface. The face of the last slayer he'd killed still bothered him. What had once become a kind of personal quest back in the day, now...? Not one of his best moments, that was for sure.

But Buffy wasn't finished. She'd seen what was under those human veneers. Would have sensed it even if she hadn't. They weren't acting like _any_ vamps she'd ever come across and that made them even more dangerous in her book. Unknowns had too much of an advantage in her line of work.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of Sunnydale and not look back," she warned.

Spike turned back and looked at her with a lift of a dark brow. Buffy absently noticed the scar running through it. He didn't bother to reply this time; his expression unreadable. Angel, equally poker-faced responded instead. "Once we finish what we came here to-"

"This is _my_ territory," Buffy butted in abruptly and took a step forward. " _I_ can deal with them. Go back where you came from or I'll deal with you now." It wasn't a threat and both vampires seemed to turn into stone. The tension on both sides racked up and Buffy swallowed thickly.

And then Angel relaxed and let a slightly unpleasant smile touch his mouth. Buffy's breath hitched. "We don't want trouble, but ..." Cool confidence oozed from him as he shrugged offhandedly; unspoken words hung in the charged air between them, and it gave her grudging pause for thought.

Each and every one of them sported bruises. Buffy could see no other choice but to retreat. She'd seen them fight. It had taken all of them to kill two of those uber-strong demons. And the third one she'd faced had pretty much kicked her butt. She'd managed to break one if its arms and Xander had put an arrow in its shoulder... Most of the time her friends were busy concentrating on not getting killed due to the number of Demons.

The two interlopers had taken out three demons with relative ease. More powerful than the average vamp, these two – especially the dark haired one. She'd bet her life on it that his large, imposing body was finely honed with muscle. The brutal yet efficient methods they'd used told of years; maybe centuries of fighting skills. Hell, just looking into those deep brown eyes that seemed to hold a lifetime...

The last vampire she'd come across with that arrogant look in his eyes had been Luke, and he hadn't shown half as much skill as the ones facing her now. Buffy had beaten him. By the skin of her teeth. It had taken several days for the bruises he'd inflicted on her to fade.

Unlikely she'd walk away Scot-free this time. _Yes_ , Buffy decided grimly. Retreat was the best option. _For now_. She took a step back and slowly lowered her stake.

The vampires widened the gap between them, and after briefly eyeing the contemplative Slayer, Angel flicked his dark gaze over Cordelia from head to toe. This one was worth hanging around for. Even without the business that brought them here. He admired her fire...amongst other things.

It probably wasn't the time or place, but he let a slight, sensual smile touch his mouth as he caught her defensive gaze. "Maybe see you around."

The pure male appreciation in that look had Cordy tingling right down to her toes, but she rolled her eyes and shoved aside the accompanying shiver that ran along her spine under his hot appraisal. "Not if my stake sees you first." Her face flushed with irritation when a soft, deep chuckle floated through the air even as they stepped back and then seemingly melted into the darkness.


	6. Crawford Street Mansion. Early hours.

Spike woke with a hoarse yell. Sweat dampened his pale brow and harsh breaths pushed out between clenched teeth. Throwing aside the faded cover, he climbed off the bed and stretched until his lower spine clicked. A shaking hand rose to swipe at the moisture that dripped into his eyes. Coming face to face with that slayer had brought back memories long buried.

It had been a while since he'd had that particular dream- nightmare...memory, and the familiar ache that settled in his clenched gut both unsettled as well as pissed him off. Seeing her must have got his head all twisted.

Spike and Angel had stuck together after the decision to split with their sires. A choice made easier considering they'd already taken off and left them to it when things had gone tits up. So much for family loyalty. The reason for teaming up was simple. To quote that old adage: _strength in numbers_. A good idea when everyone- or thing, who would as sooner tear your throat out as look at you.

_Misery loves company_. Never a truer word said, in Spike's opinion.

The Boxer Rebellion was always the second shitty thing at the forefront of his mind. It was at a time when both he and Angel became sick with each other's company. They'd made the insane decision to seek out and re-join their sires. As it happened, Darla and Drusilla were not really that far from their own location in Tibet.

They'd thought it had to be better than hiding away and living hand to mouth. That it could possibly work out.

But it had been far worse. The unholy reunion had ended in disaster, with them slipping away like thieves in the night.

Initially, Darla and Drusilla had welcomed them back -even as their eyes had remained heavy with distrust. In a bout of bravado, Spike had followed Dru's urgings to face the then Slayer: an ebony-haired, sword-wielding dervish.

_*_

_China: 1900_

_Spike dodged another blow from the slayer's sword. "Just like I pictured it. This good for you?" he taunted softly._

_With a glare, the young slayer charged him, sword whickering through the air in a deadly blur. Spike dodged every swing and viciously backhanded the girl, breaking her grip on the sword._

_She went hand-to-hand with him, landing several kicks and punches to his head, serving only to further enrage him. He beat her back but began to lose ground again until she backed him up against a support column and pinned him there, her foot to his throat._

_Raising a stake and poised to strike the killing blow, an explosion outside suddenly blasted part of the temple wall inward, the concussion breaking her hold._

_Spike instantly went on the offensive, knocking the stake from her hand. As she bent to retrieve it, he seized her arm and wrenched it up behind her back. Pulling the hapless girl to him he sank his fangs deep into her neck._

_The slayer gasped in pain as her life drained away. Spike turned the dying girl towards him and she looked into his eyes. "Tell my mother I'm sorry." She whispered hoarsely in Chinese. Spike shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, love." He responded, the shadows in his eyes strangely at odds with the cockiness of his tone. "I don't understand a word you're saying." Then he watched as the light in her eyes flickered then died._

_For a moment he stilled, then roughly threw her to the ground like so much refuse. Panting heavily, he looked up, eyes connecting with triumphant brown. Licking his lips of the slayer's blood, he pasted a grin on his face and made his way over to Dru, who'd stood watching the whole while from the shadows...._

That night he'd slipped away, taking the chance when both Drusilla and Darla were too busy arguing with Angel to notice. Spike had overheard the sound of a baby's cry as he'd snuck passed the main hall. They'd had an issue with Angel's choice of kills: murderers and thieves.

Twenty minutes into his journey, he'd sensed that he was no longer alone in going AWOL...

*

Three demons still to find before they could move on. They'd have to kiss goodbye the other half of the substantial payment they'd demanded if they gave up now. Also the reputation the two vampires had developed as the best damn mercenaries money could buy, would be damaged beyond repair once known they'd welched on a deal.

Letting out an irritated breath, Spike walked over to the drawn curtains, twitching them back a bit with one hand while searching his back pocket with the other, before remembering his smokes were still in his coat pocket.

Still dark.

Sleep wasn't an option. With a low curse he turned, shrugging on his duster and left the room to make his way out of the crappy old mansion they'd come across hours earlier.

A fire and obvious earthquake damage hadn't made it entirely uninhabitable. He'd stayed in worse. A bonus that the previous occupants, in their haste to leave hadn't even bothered to take most of their furniture. Although old and thick with dust, it was good enough quality to still be useful to them.

The bed he'd chosen was pretty comfortable, too. But that wasn't the issue right now.

The walled-in garden at the back of the property was overgrown. Part of one had partially collapsed, caused either the earthquake or the thick, dark Ivy that ate its way into the mortar.

Lighting up a cigarette, Spike wandered over to an old bench and dropped onto it, lean legs sprawling out as his sightless eyes stared up at the clear, starlit sky.

It wasn't all bad here, he grudgingly admitted. Angel had his eye on a little something.. He hadn't missed the earlier gleam of interest in his sire's gaze. Worth staying just to see him get his arse served on a plate. He grinned at the thought. Feisty little bit, that one.

His eyes remained focused upwards even as Angel sat himself down on the wall of an old Koi pond; the water practically hidden by lotus plants and algae. Only to snap them down when his smoke was snatched from loose fingers.

"Bout time you started buying your own ruddy fags," fresh irritation flaring at the slight smirk as the dark haired vampire took a long drag; the bad habit he never bothered to kick since Spike was around.

"When have you ever parted with money for anything?" One last drag then the cigarette flicked in a small arc towards the pond's surface.

"Not the point", Spike muttered, absently taking note of the slightest glimmer of light touching the sky. "You got anything?" he asked, changing the subject. Not that he was interested in listening right now, but he knew he had to ask. Partnership an' all that. "I see you ain't got your sword back." Not that one was needed. Fangs and fists worked well enough for him.

He personally reckoned his Sire just liked to show off. _Bloody poof._

Angel scowled a bit, rising lithely to his feet before responding. "No. The Slayer must have taken it." He shrugged it off. He'd get it back. Eventually. It was the only item the vampire had taken with him the night they'd left the others -for good.

The Blacksmith had been a bit of a collector of medieval weapons. Although the man at first refused to part with the sword, it hadn't taken much to change his mind. After engraving his initial as instructed and handing it over, the soulless vampire had tested the wickedly sharp blade on the Blacksmith's neck.

"Found a demon bar in town. A human runs the place." Spike wasn't surprised. Plenty of scrotes out there even worse than the demons they hunted.

"Was he helpful?" A slight grin when Angel flexed long fingers before continuing.

"Not so much on the ones we're after, but insight into a wider picture."

"We're not here for the 'wider picture', mate." Air-quoting with his fingers before reaching for another cigarette, the blond vampire rose to his feet and lit it. "Not bein' paid for that."

"Narrow vision gets you nowhere."

Spike shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me getting things done."

Ignoring the roll of his partner's eyes, he turned on his heel. "It's getting light and I need a drink," he abruptly stated, not waiting for Angel to follow.

*

Spike was already holding a bottle of whisky and drinking from it when Angel walked in. "Can't that wait till later?" He asked irritation thick in his voice. They had, after all, plans to make before the following night.

At his disapproving look, Spike took a longer swig of the booze. "I know you need to get it all off your chest, Peaches, but right now I'm in the mood to get pissed. Not like we're goin' sightseeing or summat."

With one last irritated glance, Angel decided to leave the younger vampire to it. He was tired, and it was true; they had plenty of time.... And he hadn't missed the shadows lurking in the blue eyes that had avoided his. Personal experience of similar moods soon bled away his annoyance.

After what he'd found out earlier, it looked like their visit to Sunnydale was not going to be as cut and dried as first assumed.

So much for the 1: get in, 2: Avoid the resident Slayer, 3: Kill the Demons. And 4: Get out. So far, the scenario they'd planned on the way to Sunnydale had gone awry.

The very first God-Damned night, and they'd just had to bump into the slayer. The threats she'd made hadn't bothered him so much as the failure to put all the demons into the ground.

He was getting too old for this shit.... Or even more possible was the fact that maybe he was just becoming bored with the whole thing. Could he really see himself doing this for the rest of his unlife? He smirked: at being stuck with Spike? The younger vampire certainly kept him on his toes. Personality clashes weren't always unbearable.

Considering his past brutal treatment of the younger vampire, he often marvelled at Spike's agreement to work with him. Strangely enough, the combination worked well- most of the time. They'd long had an unwritten agreement to give each other space when needed.

His venture out after the fight had brought a little more intel. Not all of the good. Willy, the Demon Bar owner had enlightened him – after a little persuasion, that there were in fact a lot more of the demons than the six they'd followed into the Town. His lips thinned in frustration. On top of that bad news, he was told that there were rumblings that something 'big' was going to go down. Of what, he wasn't currently sure.

The only highlight of the night had been in the form of a gorgeous- and feisty brunette, who had been alongside the Slayer with the small group of humans. A smile softened his pale face as headed upstairs. _Damn, she's sweet!_ Maybe this trip wouldn't turn out so bad after all.


	7. Rupert Giles' Home

Giles leaned against the cushioned back of his couch, a surprised and concerned expression on his face as Buffy described tonight's events.

Well, last nights, seeing as it was now nearly two in the morning. Buffy had been dropped off by Cordelia Chase, who'd continued on to deliver the others to their respective homes and Dorms.

He reached for his pad to take further notes, adding the description of the vampires; his brow lifting higher as she revealed what had been said with regards to the others' safety. Taking no pleasure in agreeing with a vampire.

As far as Giles was concerned, it was only a matter of time before one or the other ended up seriously injured. Or worse. They'd gotten off lightly tonight. If the two vampires hadn't turned up when they did... He swallowed heavily. On many occasions he had broached the subject of the dangers apparent.

Concern ending in deeply reluctant agreement with his slayer. That ordering them not to get involved in the field work wouldn't make the slightest difference. One teenager was more than enough to deal with, especially when -often, it came to self-preservation. But five of them? No wonder he always seemed to be on the verge of a headache.

"He had old eyes." Buffy said. With an expression that had made her feel like a complete novice. "He reminded me of Luke," she shuddered a little, which wasn't that surprising to Giles, considering injuries wrought that would have been life-threatening to anyone other than a Slayer. "But way more skilled- and a lot quicker on his feet" She added her gaze pensive. _Better threads and a handsome face to boot._

Not that it mattered. _Still a walking corpse_. And her natural enemy. Like she'd ever forget the role that had ruined her normal life.

"The other one too," she added. Maybe a bit younger." Though not by much, she reckoned. "Looked like a Billy Idol Wannabe," her nose wrinkling in mild distaste. She then recalled seeing a weird look in the bleached blondes' blue eyes when their gazes had briefly met.

Buffy debated whether or not to mention it to her mentor. Maybe she'd imagined it? So much angst in the air, what with her spidey senses tripping off in full alert even as she fought those demons. Almost breaking her stride. Almost. On getting closer, the buzz only got worse.

Also? Do vampires feel regret? Nope. Definitely not. He'd turned away before she could figure out exactly what she'd seen. Then the bigger one was in her face. _Conceited pig!_ Her hands still itched to dust his undead ass.

Giles was still busy digesting all the information his Slayer had given, taking it apart and compartmentalizing salient pieces. He'd heard of instances where vampires and demons had fought among themselves. Mostly over land rights – or potential victims.

But from what he'd gathered so far from Buffy, these particular vampires had admitted to actively tracking the demons from New York in a continued attempt to eradicate them. That was, to his mind, quite an aberration.

To leave their hunting grounds (if indeed they originated from New York?) in pursuit seemed rather odd to him. Succeeding in getting them off their territory should have been enough.

In his studies at the WC, he'd read that Vampire Clans were extremely territorial. Large numbers were involved in established Clans. Following orders given by their Clan leader? That idea didn't sit well. According to Buffy, they were definitely not minions. As with humans, their species did have their fair share of loners and small break-off groups.

It all led back to the very demons who'd attempted to kidnap a female victim – at a place with a history of attracting rituals of one sort or another. Which meant something was definitely afoot. Now he just needed to find out where exactly these two vampires figured into it all.

All he knew so far was that there was no love lost between them and the demons.

So... what should be his Slayer's next move? He knew what it ought to be, although dreaded to think of the consequences of a second confrontation – with either group. Two or more against one had never been an issue for Buffy, but he'd be an utter fool to think she'd come out of either fight unscathed if, as she stated, the number of demons yet to be dealt with.

And Vampires, where at least one of them was an equivalent to Luke in both age and strength.

Granted, the vampires had averted an almost certain tragedy by interfering in their fight. They'd stated quite clearly that they intended to remain in Sunnydale until every last demon had been found and killed.

Although that should have brought a smidgen of relief, it really didn't. It felt to him that they were simply replacing one threat with another.

Giles' gaze dropped to rest on the Sword that leaned against his coffee table. Quite unusual for a vampire to use such a weapon. Most relied solely on their unnatural strength, speed and fangs. .

He took in the lines of the weapon with admiration. A broad blade with two lethal cutting edges. Broadswords were used to cut rather than stab, and were capable of efficiently removing limbs and heads. Predominantly used by Knights in Medieval times. There was no doubt in Giles' mind that it was a genuine artifact, although he had never seen one in such fine condition. It had obviously been well cared for.

Reaching over, he grabbed the hilt, momentarily startled by weight of it. Five pounds at least, he guessed. Approximately 45 inches long, with a two inch wide razor-edged blade that tapered to a point. The strength needed to wield it with ease would put many of today's men to shame.

The hilt itself was of a practical design, adorned with rings of steel and partially wrapped with leather for a better grip. The wear marks showed of frequent use rather than simply the age of it.

On carefully examining the blade, Giles noted an engraving on the base of the sword. Pulling out his ever-present handkerchief, he used it to rub away the dried blood that partially obscured it.

A Stylized 'A' had been etched quite deeply into the fine steel. The worn edges pointed to it being added at least a few centuries ago.

"You think it's his initial?" Buffy asked curiously; a stray thought of maybe putting her own mark on her favorite stake. It had originally belonged to Kendra, the Slayer who'd been activated when she herself had temporarily died at the hands of The Master.

Tragically, Kendra had been killed by a nutzoid vamp called Drusilla a year or so back. The vampiress had disappeared shortly afterward, but Buffy had promised herself that if ever they came face to face, the dead Slayer's stake would be put to good use.

A short-lived thought of honoring the girl by engraving "Mr Pointy' into the smooth wood died with a second thought... If ever lost, and found by a vampire... The sheer embarrassment she'd feel of that etching being found on it just didn't bear thinking about.

"It's a possibility," Giles response was murmured absently as his thoughts meandered. Wondering out loud that, if this was indeed a personalized engraving, would it lead to an insight into the owner of the sword?

Instinctively knowing where this line of thought was going, Buffy sighed; bottom lip pooching out with a little self-pity.

Research was on the books tonight. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters will be short- but many probably loooong. Forgive me.


	8. The chase Mansion

Collapsing gratefully onto her sumptuous queen-sized bed, Cordy sighed with relief. Tired wasn't a strong enough word to describe how she felt right this moment.

Her hand absently rubbed her midriff as the sick sensation in her gut refused to completely disappear.

Tara had nearly died. A cold shudder rippled sickly down her spine. _  
_

So had she. And possibly some of the others. But at least they- and herself had years of experience on their side. She may not be a slayer nor have witchy powers, but was thankfully, fully aware of the real possibilities of things going wrong. Still, it was terrifying that it almost did tonight.

Guilt continued to fester as she recalled the last couple of hours. Tara hadn't accompanied the Scoobies in the field before tonight. Up until now she'd helped with research on the occasions Cordy hadn't tagged along with the others on patrol. After all, what was the point of her self-defense lessons if she wasn't going to try out her moves?

_God, I'm like, taking over her life!_ First suggesting changes to her classes – and then asking her to take part in the moonlighting side of her life. Hours of browsing through pages of icky monsters. And now she had allowed _another_ , much more dangerous venture. Some friend she was... which brought her straight back to tonight's close shave.

Cordy had hesitated to invite her along mostly because she felt sure it was not a good idea. Tara was a gentle soul, and oftentimes it got pretty hairy out there.

Which was why she was asking herself now: why hadn't she vetoed the idea as soon as the invite popped out of Buffy's big mouth? Her shoulders sagged. Because her friend had actually looked pleased to be asked. Okay, Tara wasn't completely vulnerable- hello? Kick-ass Witch? But that didn't necessarily mean she'd be prepared for such a frenetic scenario.

Her full mouth thinned as she recalled an earlier 'episode' in her car.

How anyone could even think that Willow Rosenberg was a sweet and gentle girl? Was she the only one that saw through her innocent comments? Pfft. Looked that way.

Tara had rode 'shotgun' – much to Xander's disappointment. He'd reluctantly joined the redhead and Oz in the back, sporting a major pout. Ten minutes later, Cordy dropped off Xander and Oz, which had left the redhead sitting alone in the back seat.

She pulled away from the curb to head on to the University Campus to drop the girls off. Then up chirped Willow in a whiny voice. "Um, Tara?" Her friend had glanced over her shoulder with curious eyes. "I... well; I just wondered why you didn't, like, cast some kind of vanquishing spell against those demons?"

Tara had flushed a bright red and started to stammer as she attempted to respond.

That did it for Cordy, who'd instantly intervened. "What I'd like to know is -Why didn't _you_?" she'd demanded hotly, making no effort to keep the acid from dripping off her tongue. "Hello? Not like it was _your_ first time in the middle of a battle field, huh?"

The instant surge of satisfaction on seeing the girl cringe into her seat hadn't assuaged the fury that had gripped her, as she took in the still-mortified expression on her friend's face. At least she'd had some pleasure seeing Willow get ripped by the bleached blonde vampire. He'd noticed her hovering close behind Xander and Oz, how at times she'd got in the way. Served her right.

Cordy blew out a frustrated breath. Why the hell did she even get involved with these people? And they had the nerve to call _her_ a bitch! Would she ever learn?

Apparently not.

The whole situation they'd faced earlier been scary-crazy. First the slow- in her opinion, reaction of Buffy to Cordy's clinch with that demon. If it hadn't been for that really hot guy- _Vampire_ , she reminded herself abruptly, she'd have been toast.

It bothered her that the rational part of her brain understood that the Slayer couldn't be everywhere at once, but still.

Cordy's thoughts traitorously returned to the scene with the dark vampire. Did it make her a crazy person to admit that she'd been instantly attracted to him? Just the cool touch of his fingers as they slid along her cheek had sent her pulse racing.

Fair enough, she hadn't realized he was a vamp until seeing him in action minutes later. It had also brought home to her just how 'cool' his touch had been. Initially she'd put it down to the heat of the blush that had flared on her face. Life was so unfair sometimes, but she'd found that there was no point crying over spilt milk- or _blood_ as this case might be.

You just had to move on with your chin firmly lifted in the air. Cordy just hoped she would succeed in taking her own advice.

Another issue had come up tonight. The figurative elephant in the room moment. Mister Hot-but-Unavailable had nailed Buffy like a bug on a pin. Talk about reality check. He was right.

It _was_ stupid. Not just Buffy, but the whole group. As much as the girl got on her last nerve, she'd never actually asked them to go with at first. Willow and Xander had got into some pretty bad spots when she had said no in the past.

So down the line, there they were out in the field with the slayer, often forgetting the fact they themselves weren't super power-ey when facing all kinds of monsters. Was she the only one who occasionally thought of the possibility of one or more not making it out alive?

Probably not, but what could you do? Hide at home when the sun went down, and hope to God you avoided being a chew toy? Ignore the deaths that happened frequently on the Hellmouth?

They may only be vulnerable humans, but Cordy liked to think they did make a difference, however small.

Once the blinkers came off, it was impossible to put those suckers back on.


	9. University Library (the following night)

A few small groups and lone students were scattered around the huge library tonight. Unlike Sunnydale High, it wasn’t closed off with the rest of the University, being a separate building and on a campus.

As Head Librarian, Giles’ time there was pretty flexible as there was always a member of staff around. Some nights, talking freely was difficult- but doable if they kept their voices low.

Tucked away from the main area, the Scoobies huddled around a table waiting for Giles, who was currently ensconced in his office. Willow, who was still chaffing over the scene in the car with Cordy and Tara had decided to broach the subject.

Buffy instantly made sympathetic noises, but Xander was for once, a bit quiet.

“I always imagine witches doing their thing away from the front lines” Oz responded after a bit of thought.

“What?” Willow was a little taken aback. Shouldn’t he be defending her? _Girlfriend here, buddy._

“I mean, maybe that’s the just way Tara has been taught to cast magic spells,” he elucidated. “Is it easy to concentrate when a lot’s going on?” Oz seemed genuinely interested – and not judgey, which instantly nullified her imagined offended feelings.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done…” Cordelia had asked a similar question. _Darn!_ _Hung by my own petard_. It was true, Willow had never magicked on the run, so to speak.

Then she remembered Cordy’s words when first introducing Tara to the group. “But what about that night, you know, when Tara saved Cordy in the parking lot?”

Xander piped up, “Maybe it’s easier to do when you’re not the target?” Too busy trying to not get killed he added.

What little wind was left sucked out of Willow’s sails at his surprisingly sensible response. Starting to feel more than a little bitchy over the whole thing, she decided to change the subject. “Wonder what the plan is tonight?”

“I don’t care as long as it doesn’t involve research.” The others were quick to agree with Xander.

*********

Giles joined the others armed with a book and a thick wad of notepaper. He placed them on the table and pulled out a chair next to Buffy. He was about to take a seat when the member of staff on duty tonight, called his name. “Excuse me a moment,” he muttered and headed over to converse with her.

Getting bored with non-action, Buffy rapped fingers rhythmically on the table top; halting when the librarian broke off her chat to send a stink eye her way. She really missed the days when they didn’t have to worry about ‘normal’ people interrupting their meetings.

She watched as Giles ended the conversation and made his way back with a mixture of relief and mild irritation.

“Problems?” Buffy asked, as he sat down next to her. She hoped their talk hadn’t been about her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d attracted that woman’s ire.

”No. Ms Carling wanted reassurance that I would be present for the large book delivery due tomorrow. As if I’d forget,” he grumbled. “Now, let’s begin-“

Cordy and Tara took that moment to burst in through the main doors. “Sorry we’re late,” called Cordy, who then paused when Ms Carling, who’d instantly turned to glare, shushed her. Cordy silently mouthed ‘Sorry’.

Walking quickly over to the others and taking their seats, the brunette continued on, her voice dutifully lowered. “Rehearsals went on a bit longer than expected. He’s so persnickety!”

“I heard on the grapevine that Barnsey’s a real stickler,” Xander commented. “Likes to make life difficult for you poor college saps,” cringing with a cheeky grin when the others instantly reacted with ‘Hey’s, and got a slap on the arm for his trouble.

Unlike the others, Xander hadn’t gone to university, opting instead for the same career choice as his dad & uncle: construction. Although presently, still at the bottom of the ladder. But with his uncle as foreman, who was a decent guy- unlike his dad, he enjoyed the job.

Plus, he got to drive a truck, and often finished his shift around the same time as his friends. Growing up in a small town meant you knew – or knew of, practically everyone living there. So it wasn’t much of a surprise for him to have heard of Mister Barnes.

Giles cleared his throat and looked around the table, waiting for everyone to settle and fall silent. “I had a little free time today, so put it to good use.” He shuffled his notes then opened the heavy book he’d brought. The others wrinkled their noses in disgust at the strong musty odor emanating from its weathered pages.

“I managed to isolate the species. The descriptions you all gave led to a demon called Shousace.” He revealed. “Although they are – as you’ve personally experienced, especially strong, this seems to be their only advantage.” He added that while it was fortunate when it came to Buffy- or even the recently arrived vampires, that sheer strength was extremely disadvantageous to the ‘normal’ humans in the group.

“Interestingly, this particular species have never been sighted in the Americas before, preferring the temperate climes of Eastern Europe. Hungary to be precise,” he added and went on to explain that was also the language one of the demons had used. When Buffy asked if he’d found out what had been said, Giles nodded and translated: ‘shut your mouth, idiot.’

“A least I got the ‘idiot’ part right”, Xander immediately responded.

“So why are these shoesize demons showing up now?” Cordy asked.

Giles patiently pronounced the name with the use of phonetics. “Shoo-saySe”

“That’s what I said, duh,” Cordy rolled her eyes.

“Quite. Unfortunately, at present I have no idea why they’re here,” he admitted. Glancing at his notes, then to the open page of the book, he continued. “The oldest recorded Shousace was said to have been around 250 years of age.”

“What, it got friendly with a guy and told him it was his birthday?” Xander joked.

Giles cleared his throat. “Not exactly. One was captured in Hungary in the 17th century and interrogated. Can you all try to leave questions until after I’ve finished summarizing?” He looked over the top of his glasses reminding the youngster of an old geography teacher he once had.

“Shousace are not a sociable species – even towards each other. They’re loners. With their unique strength, I doubt they would need backup in their endeavors,” Frowning. “Which tends to make the current circumstances all the more disconcerting.”

“Understatement much?” Willow shifted uncomfortably in her seat, shuddering as she recalled their earlier scary confrontation.

Giles went on to say that so far, all they really knew at this point was that they were were intent on acquiring at least one human for sacrifice. For what, they again had no clue. How many victims were they after? Was it age or gender-specific? He could only assume at present, that their preference seemed to point towards young females.

Oz frowned a little. “What is it with demons always going after girls? Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, it makes me feel glad to be a man,” Xander replied with relief.

Cordy gave an inelegant snort. “A _man_? Who told you that lie?” Even Willow snickered behind her hand at that. Buffy suddenly became very interested in her hands.

“I wouldn’t be so judgmental if I were you, Cor. Skeletons and closets.” A partly-fake glower darkened Xander’s face, which turned into a cheeky grin when she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

“If we can get back on topic, children, I’d be most thankful.”

In the ensuing silence, Giles continued on. “The demon has a thick and rather scaly skin, which makes it almost impossible to pierce – for those without some form of supernatural abilities.” Not that they really needed reminding of that fact.

“On the plus side, there are several weak spots we can all take advantage of. Non-Slayers with the aid of crossbows only,” he warned before listing vulnerable areas: eyes, neck and joints.

“Well, at least we know what they are, and what bits to slice-n-dice” Buffy flashed an upbeat smile in an attempt to disperse the glum expression on her Watcher’s face.

He graced her with a faint smile. “We still need to find out if this… ritual or whatever it is that they are planning is something ongoing or new. Will it be advantageous to all demons, or specific to their own kind?” he wondered aloud.

“And more important, what will a successful endeavor mean for mankind? Or, if local, how will it affect the residents of Sunnydale – or indeed, the Hellmouth itself?”

“So… What’s the plan for tonight?” asked Buffy in an attempt to rid herself of the doom and gloom that hung like a pall above their heads. A bit of fighty action right now would shake it off, she thought.

“Please don’t mention books” Xander begged groaning under his breath when Giles confirmed his fears.

“Thank you, Xander. You’ve just reminded me of one in particular that would be most beneficial…” Unfortunately it was currently at his home, Giles remembered and frowned in annoyance. “But that could be remedied. “Um, Cordelia? ”

After handing over his house keys to the brunette and suggesting she take Xander with her, but under no circumstance let the boy into his house. Xander graced him with a puzzled and slightly hurt look. Giles reminded him of his annoying habit of carelessly handling his precious artifacts, and of what could possibly happen- yet again.

“But it was an accident!” Xander whined. “How was I to know it was an incantomethingy?” The Faery vase had luckily been short of a few of the required ingredients; otherwise he’d have had a vicious and uncontrollable imp running rampage through his house.

“Which is precisely the reason you _will_ wait outside.” He turned his attention to Buffy. “You’ll go out on patrol as per normal- alone,” he added as both Willow and Oz had instantly risen to their feet.

Although Giles had no need to explain, it was still depressing to be stuck in all night. It was just too risky for the others until they knew more.

“Make sure to head back immediately if you come across anything relevant.”

“Sure,” Buffy nodded. “I might pop in to see Willy after I’ve swept the cemeteries. Maybe see if I can find out where those two new vamps are hiding out.”

“Please don’t do anything rash.”

“But I was only …” She relented after facing just ten seconds of Giles’ stern unblinking stare.

“You’re no fun.”

_******_

_Outside Giles House._

Angel and Spike had come up empty after searching for the demons that ran off the previous night. As soon as the sun went down, they’d left the confines of the mansion and followed every lead until the trails went cold. No luck. After an hour they decided to split up.

Angel had decided to make another trip to Willy’s Bar. After discussing at length his last visit, Angel came to the conclusion that he hadn’t expressed his need for information strongly enough. Roughing up humans wasn’t something he did nowadays, but considering the little weasel owned a bar specifically for Sunnydale’s demon population he figured what the hell. Not like he didn’t know the risks of hanging around with creatures like himself.

As he cut through the residential areas he sighted two of the humans who’d been involved in the fight at the clearing on the outskirts of Sunnydale, the crossbow-wielding dark-haired kid, and the gorgeous brunette who had impressed him on so many levels.

They’d just exited a bright red Chrysler Cirrus. Angel’s lips quirked in humor on catching the personalized license plate: ‘Queen C’. Very appropriate, he thought as he took in her regal bearing as she walked gracefully from the driver’s side and joined the whelp on the pavement.

They were completely oblivious to his presence as with silent speed he slipped into the shadowed grounds of the house opposite, using an ancient maple as added cover. Then he watched. Angel wondered for a second what the ‘C’ stood for: _Christine? Carol? Hmm, maybe not_ , he thought, guessing that her name would probably be something … unique?

Hands on curvy hips, she icily berated her companion for some slight, who instantly backed off raising his hands in the air with a grimace. He then leaned against the side of the car as she turned and walked towards the small condo. Straightening up when ordered to, “Get your fat ass off my car, Xander Lavelle Harris!”

There was an air of too-close familiarity between them that surprisingly irked Angel. Were they a current item? On watching their interaction; their body language, he reckoned that was a definite no, but there was no denying the hints of a past relationship. The idiot must have done something objectionable to cause the edge of real anger threading her voice; the disdain barely hidden in her expression.

Angel wondered why it bothered him either way. After all, he’d only seen her twice. Not a stranger to brief flings with human women in the last 90 years. When opportunities arose to lose himself in the delicious warmth of their welcoming bodies, he rarely had a reason to deny his needs. In his line of work, he travelled a lot, which meant freedom to casually hook up then move on without looking back.

But this one…

He questioned depths of his sudden interest. She was beautiful, yeah. He’d seen many equally so in his lifetime. Her fiery temperament and the those brightly charged eyes that glared in irritation drew him in. Their shared moment a few nights before had been stuck on a loop in his mind since. Especially after seeing the unsuccessfully-hidden disappointment in her face when realizing he was a vampire. But earlier, when her copper-rimmed hazel eyes had first met his, instant attraction flared despite her obvious chagrin, and the slightest hint of musky arousal when he’d briefly touch her face.

Everything about her drew Angel in like a moth to the flame. Was he willing to get burned? Hell, yeah!

If she was even willing to let him get that close.

Angel reckoned he just needed to find the right moment to test her barriers. When it came to the inner workings of the gentler sex, his gut instincts were usually right. Humans were generally oblivious to things that went bump in the night. Monsters only existed in movies and TV shows. But her awareness that vampires actually existed, and that he was one made for a difficult sell.

What if he did succeed in getting the girl? He had a strong feeling that this particular brunette would be a hard act to follow. Would he be able to walk away when his job here was done?

It was a question Angel needed to get his head around before even thinking of pushing this impulse further. Because this time it actually mattered.

Angel hung around a little bit longer, curious as to why she was there. Was it her home? That surprised him. He couldn’t imagine her living in that shabby looking building. It didn’t gel with the –surprisingly, demure cut of her obviously designer-labelled dress and the expensive car with customized plates.

After a few minutes, she emerged, quickly locking the door behind her. When she turned to walk back down the path he noted the tatty weathered book gripped carefully between fastidious fingers, and held it as far as possible from her as if it was a bag of dog crap.

“Watch you don’t drop that.” Xander Harris had quickly straightened up from his slouch, moving his resettled ass off her car. “Giles will have a cow if you damage it.”

“Pfft. How much more damaged could it get?” she replied tartly. “And God knows how many disease-ridden paws have touched it before he even bought it.” The youth let out a resigned sigh before taking it off her and pulling the passenger door open.

Angel watched with an amused grin until they’d both climbed in and the car peeled away from the house, and then he continued on to his original destination.


	10. A clearing on the outskirts of SD, following evening.

“I’ve got a confession to make.” Buffy’s voice cut through Giles’ thoughts.

After searching her slightly flushed face, suspicion formed and Giles gave a heavy sigh. “You went to the bar.”

“Nu-uh.” She couldn’t help the smug grin. Okay, Buffy _had_ planned to, but… “Had an interesting run-in with a few local vamps. Waited till they finished yakking before dusting their asses…or is that assi? Hmm.”

According to his young charge, the vampires had overheard the leader of the new arrivals talking to the bar owner, Willy– who apparently had been held one-handed a few feet off the ground by his shirt front. 

“Anyhoo, Willy had heard on the demony grapevine that there was going to be some sort of pickup tonight. A few new Shoesizes.” The chatty vamps had been really helpful. Not that it saved them from the point of her trusty stake.

“Said they were there for some planned future ‘party.’ I reckoned Blondie and the Bear def. wouldn’t wanna miss shortlisting the invitees.”

“So you decided it was a good way to kill two birds with one stone?”

Buffy rolled her eyes at her Watcher. ”If I wanted to dust those two, I wouldn’t have brought this, would I?” she lifted the cloth-wrapped package she’d grabbed earlier from Giles’ house.

His brows rose in surprise. _I must be slipping_. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d taken it. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m thinking pow-wow.”

“The demons or the Vamps?” asked Xander, who’d been close behind and eavesdropping on the conversation. He’d thankfully been allowed to tag along; smirking triumphantly at the ‘losers’ who were left to do boring research.

“Do I really need to answer that?” Buffy smiled at his ‘oh, right’ reply. Not that Xander was dumb… just a little slow catching on. A bit like she was with Math. And Science. And-

“I’m not too sure that this is a sensible idea.” Giles gave his patented frown as mild disapproval. “We still know very little about them, and the only thing we can be thankful for is a single intervention that…. well, saved a few people’s lives.”

“Not just _any_ lives, Giles,” she reminded him. “Anyway, if it goes according to plan-“

“What plan may that be?”

Buffy chewed at her bottom lip a bit before responding to his valid question. “It’s still kind of on the vaguey side- but! I thought you could do your sleuth-y bit and pry stuff out of them?” Although Giles still had reservations, he admitted, reluctantly, that Buffy’s suggestion made some sense.

“Uh oh. Looks like we’ve missed the pre-dinner drinks.” The slayer saw a dead Shousace on the ground a few yards away, and in the distance, heard distinct sounds of fighting.

They quickly made a path through dense foliage and came to a standstill, watching for a moment as the two vamps they’d just been discussing, as they fought three demons between them. Another demon lay dead several feet from them.

The younger vampire was easily a match for his opponent possessing a whip-lean frame that effortlessly avoided the blows currently raining down. His leather duster flowed around his body like a matador’s cape. The only indication that he’d missed blocking a few punches was the sluggishly bleeding cut on his lower lip, coating his exposed fangs. _Eww._

The taller vamp had his hands a bit too full- taking on the remaining two demons. They were circling around him searching for a weak spot. He had, at some point shed his duster. Buffy couldn’t help but admire the play of rippling muscles as he blocked every blow that was attempted – then winced as a meaty fist connected with the side of his head.

“I _so_ shouldn’t have swiped his sword,” she muttered under her breath as she removed the cloth that wrapped the package. Then surged forward, yelling out to catch his attention. The sword spun through the air towards the dark-haired vamp, who easily caught it in one hand then quickly sliced an arc down on the demons’ offending arm.

As it howled and stepped back clutching its bloody wound Buffy took her chance with a high spinning kick. The momentum staggered the demon, sending it crashing into a nearby tree. Before he could get to his feet, she landed on his back and jammed her stake deep into the side of his neck. Hooking her knees under his armpits, she held fast until it finally collapsed under her.

Evening the odds made a difference, and the battle lasted only a few more minutes before all three demons were splayed out on the ground dead.

Wiping his sword on the dead body of the demon, Angel took a moment to covertly eye the slayer and the humans, who now stood close together watching his and Spike’s every move. He wondered at their unexpected assistance; cynically putting it down to a kind of payback for helping them out. He doubted the girl would want to owe them any favors.

He walked over and reached for his abandoned coat. Unlike Spike, Angel liked to keep his clothing gore and rip-free. Not always successful, which was why the other’s duster was worn around the edges, whereas he’d invested in more than enough replacements.

They took their time walking over to face the group. Angel indicated the sword and looked directly at the young slayer. “Thanks.”

Buffy shrugged one slim shoulder. “No use to me. I prefer my trusty stake.” She flipped it through her fingers in an overt show of dexterity. He didn’t look impressed. She pooched her lip.

The older man in the group spoke next. Angel sized him up as he surprisingly went into share mode. Enlightening them on what he’d found out about the Shousace. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully: a Brit. Well-read, and fully cognizant in things that went bump in the night.

He knew what he was. With every slayer there was her watcher hovering in the background. Being around for a couple of centuries made it even easier for Angel to pick them out.

He also noticed that the group was much smaller tonight; only three this time round. To his disappointment, there was no curvy brunette in sight. He found himself wondering where she was. Was she out with a boy? Obviously not that Harris kid, but… No, he couldn’t imagine her putting up with teenage hormone-induced sweaty hands and heavy breathing. He thought about it…. Nope, he didn’t like the image it brought at all.

Angel was so far from his teenage years that he’d forgotten what it was like. As for hormones? He had those, _hell yeah_. But minus the sweaty, nervous hands. And the heavy breathing. You actually had to have a pulse for that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by his partner’s abrupt move to leave. It didn’t take much for him to lose interest. Or most likely, he just wanted distance between himself and the slayer.

“Spike.” Angel caught the barely audible sigh at his unspoken request that the vampire stayed put as he reluctantly turned round. Crossing his arms he stared at the group; pale face reflecting his irritation.

*

 _Spike_? Though spoken in low tones, Giles picked up on the name. Had a sense that he’d heard it before…. Somewhere. He shelved it for the time being.

“I-I was hoping- do you have any insight into the Shousace’ intentions?” he tentatively asked. “An idea of the numbers involved in this unusual gathering at the Hellmouth, would be beneficial.”

The vampire remained silent, returning his gaze with expressionless eyes; seemingly content to let ‘Spike’ do the talking. “What makes you think we know? He asked with a sneer. “From what I’ve heard, Mouths of Hell tend to attract all kinds of vermin.”

Buffy had noted his overt irritation when first facing them and now watched as boredom added to the mix on his otherwise cute human face. Killer cheekbones. She blinked. _Where did that come from? Hello? Vampire! Q_ uickly recovering her equilibrium sarcasm colored her tone when she muttered under her breath. “Yeah, we kinda noticed.”

It was out before even thinking of how it went against their planned ‘pow wow’. Except for a quick, irritated glance from the other vampire, the blonde chose to ignore her. His attention was still fully on Giles.

“Surely if we shared our findings, we would both benefit,” Giles attempted to reason with him.

“We don’t share. Don’t need no stuck up slayer and her Nancy boy watcher pokin’ their noses in our business for a start.”

Giles’ brows rose with surprise. They knew of Watchers? _Curious._ He made another mental note and added it along with the name- and the possible initial on the base of the impressive sword that had regrettably, in his opinion, been returned to its rightful owner.

Both vampires turned to go, obviously deciding they had nothing more to say. Buffy’s feathers ruffled at the snub and couldn’t help but call after them. “What, not even a ‘thanks for the help’?” Glaring after them, under her breath she added, “ _Talk about ungrateful._ _Asswipes”_

Spike kept on walking but Angel paused and looked over his shoulder, a pale humorless grin etched his face. “Thanks for the help. Not that we needed it.” His smile twisted into a smirk.

“Sure you didn’t,” Buffy retorted sarcastically. The pow-wow had been a big mistake. Fair enough they were doing their bit by reducing the Shoeshine infestation. But not so willing to share what she was positive they knew. “I shoulda kept your sword and had it melted into a trophy.” The answering sardonic chuckle tightened the grip on her stake.

Giles made one last plea as he watched the vampire step back and turn to leave. “Just think on it. Please. There is strength in numbers.”

“Not necessarily” Angel stated dryly as his gaze flicked dubiously over the two _non-_ slayers of their small group. Then he moved with unnatural speed in a bid to catch up with the other, now-out of sight vampire.

“Well, that went well,” said Xander, and then quickly cringed with an awkward smile at their shared expressions of annoyance. _Oops._

_****_

_Angel & Spike returning to Crawford Mansion._

_“Here’s your sword, my daring avenger.”_ Spike sniggered and took a drag of his smoke. He dropped the cringing falsetto to add, “I think you’ve pulled, mate.”

Angel glanced at Spike with a mildly irritated raise of brow before replying, “Not really my type. I prefer brunettes.”

“You forgot a certain skank- who, if I recall, was actually a natural blonde to boot.” Although Spike was fully aware of the powerful dynamics between sire and childe, it was fun poking the beast.

Angel shrugged. “Yes – but we both know who I favored.” That shut Spike up.

Drusilla would always be a sore point between them, and was something that had never came up in discussions since the whole curse crap. For good reason.

Dru had sought Spike out and chose him as a companion. At the time, what with her frequent bouts of incoherence, Angelus became a mentor. He’d taught the younger vampire the art of mass slaughter, which included an incident at a wedding party. Angelus had beaten the groom to death with his own ripped off arm.

Things changed dramatically when he became aware of his soft feeling towards Dru. He made a point of having sex with her to hurt him, and teach him a lesson whenever he thought he needed one. Actions that Spike had never been able to get over. That grievance still bothered him on occasion, even- or possibly more so, since Romania.

Admittedly, on noticing the interest Angel had taken in the stunning brunette the other night, Spike had initially been tempted to try out his charm on her the next time they met. A sort of payback.

But even as the thought had entered his bitter mind, Spike decided against it. He knew that Angelus’ past actions filled the vampire with an even deeper regret than his own.


	11. Giles’ Home (Sat Night)

It was still relatively early after Giles’ unexpected meeting with the vampires, so after dropping Buffy off at the gates of Restfield Cemetery, as she’d wanted to ‘run off’ excess energy, he continued on to take Xander home.

Giles then considered all the literature he might need that night, so decided to pop back to the library to pick up one of his books. After the information gleaned from tonight’s unexpected meeting, he felt the ‘Vampyre’ volume could come in handy for his planned research.

Finding Ms. Carling hovering outside his office when he arrived wasn’t really that big of a surprise. For several weeks now, she’d made apparent her concern over his seeming favoritism of a certain group of students. Giles had managed to fob her off by implying the group had ‘special needs’. That ploy had worked for a short while.

Unfortunately Ms. Carling had made it her business to check up on Buffy and the rest of their group via the University Administration, and last night she’d brought up Xander and Oz.  How he should have been more than aware that non-students were not allowed in the University Library- stating rather snottily that she was sure there were public community buildings that would suit the ‘special needs’ the two young men had.

After saying that with much thought- and the not-so veiled threat of going over his head, Giles had decided to move the weapons as soon as the woman finished her shift early next morning. In the meantime he intended to find out as much as he could about the newly arrived vampires. That is, if there _was_ any information to find.

Although he kept a portion of his own books in the Library Office under lock and key, along with the well-hidden cache of weapons (the office of Head Librarian was most generous in size), the majority were tucked away at home, especially his treasured Watcher’s Diaries.

With half a dozen books to one side, one open in front of him at the kitchen breakfast bar, and a few dozen stacked on his other side. Above the opened one was a notepad, its pages half covered with his elegant hand writing. The smaller stack had post-it notes sticking out of various pages.

As he continued through the books, making notes and adding more sticky notes, his eyes gradually grew wider with wonder. 

_My Good God. Is it possible?_

By the time he’d closed the last book, He knew exactly who the two vampires were.

Leaping to his feet, he headed for the small telephone table near the front door. Rifling through the drawer, he pushed aside the CA Yellow Pages, and grabbed his address book. Within seconds, he’d found the number he was looking for and dialed.

“Good Evening- um Afternoon, sorry. This is Rupert Giles… Well, not _exactly_ former, no. Is it possible to speak to Wesley Wyndham Pryce, if he is about? He is? Excellent. Yes, thank you. I’ll wait.”

*****

_University/Giles’ Home. (Sun.)_

Shortly after 6am- several journeys and an aching back later, he’d succeeded in moving all the weapons as well as many armfuls of books. The empty cupboard space left more than enough room to put the few he’d left behind back under lock and key. No one could tell him what reading material he could keep in his own office.

Giles had seen Buffy at lunchtime, when she popped by to see what he was up to. He'd taken the opportunity to request she contact the others of the night's change in venue . His young charge hadn’t asked why, which was a relief as he hadn’t quite worked out what to say at that time.

But he was prepared when they all arrived.

****

“Thank you all for coming.” Giles began. “I realize that my home isn’t exactly as spacious for group meetings, but after much thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that the University Library is not the best place for our, um, kind of study material.”

Reaching deep for a light-hearted smile he added that all future group meetings would be held at his house.

Buffy asked, “Why the sudden change? We haven’t caused any trouble there, have we?”

“Not yet, no”. Giles let out a tired breath. The vast amount of research he’d accomplished in one night had been more than a little detrimental to his health. Not helped by having to lug heavy weaponry to and from his car. _I’m getting too old for this gig._

“But unlike Sunnydale High, the University Library, which is a separate building, caters to students literally 24/7. Remember, they have quite a large on-site campus.”

Taking a breath, Giles carefully made his most valid point. “Not to forget that both Xander and Oz are not students. Sadly, it isn’t a public library.”

Realization showed in their expressions. “I bet that Mzzz Carlson snitched on us,” fumed Xander. At the instant shake of Giles’ head, he calmed, but not before adding, “Have you guys noticed how close together her eyes are? You know what they say about that!”

“What do they say?” Buffy had to ask.

“Let’s not waste precious time on perceived slights,” Giles interrupted. “I have quite a few revelations to make tonight.”

Relieved when they found seats and settled in, Giles prepped his notes and began.

“After overhearing the name of one of the vampires last night- and the reference to my, um, position,” he stated delicately, “as well the etching found earlier on the broadsword, I spent inordinate amounts of time gathering information.” He glanced up from the notes, ensuring they were listening.

“The Watcher’s Diaries were, as I hoped, an enormous help”.

“You’ve found out who they are?” Buffy grinned pleased, adding: “even Willie didn’t know their names.”

“Yes, I have.” Giles replied rather smugly. “I’ll begin with the leader.” He cleared his throat in preparation for what was going to be a long dissertation.

“According to the Watchers Council Records, his name is Angelus. The choice of name was given to him by his female sire, which translated as ‘Face of an Angel’.” Not expecting a response, he expressed mild annoyance when Cordy interrupted with, “Can’t disagree with that.” A slight flush crept along her high cheekbones. Buffy snorted out an instant denial.

He continued on doggedly, hoping his irritation was picked up by them all. “It says he was turned in the mid eighteenth century- around 1750-”

“Go me!” Buffy grinned. “I knew he was old! … Oh, carry on,” she insisted hastily when seeing her Watcher’s pained expression.

Xander, leaning forward in his seat spoke even as Giles again opened his mouth. “Hold on a minute, G-man. I’m confused,” pointedly ignoring Cordy’s snigger, he went on. “You said 1750. That would be 17th century, right?”

Giles removed his glasses with a resigned sigh and looked over: “The Eighteenth Century begins on the First of January 1701 – and ends the thirty first of December 1800,” he deadpanned.

“But why? It doesn’t make any sense. Guys?” He glanced towards the others. Willow averted her eyes. Buffy shot him a shushing look, sharply inclining her head towards Giles, which had him about to point out that she’d started it. When she instantly raised a single brow his mouth sulkily slammed shut.

“Can we please leave that particular discussion for another time, Xander?” Giles asked wearily. “I have a lot of information to wade through at present.” Xander shrugged a shoulder and sat back in his seat.

“Angelus would have possibly been around his mid to late twenties before the event. I could find no clear record of his exact age,” Giles admitted.

“So that makes him about…” Buffy scrunched her face, mentally calculating.

Willow jumped in: “235, or pretty close to that.” She thought a bit. “And _that’s_ just in vampy years! If you added his human age, he’d nearer to 260 years, or just over. Wowsa!”

“So, not a ‘Dead _boy_ ’ then, Xan.” Cordy grinned at him. “More like a Dead _Fossil_ ,” adding with an ‘eww’, thinking maybe it was good to think like that, considering her earlier response to his nearness.

“Nah, The Master was a _true_ fossil.” As soon as the words popped out, Xander mentally kicked himself. _Way to go, idiot!_ Bringing up the very vamp that had killed Buffy right in front of her. Fair enough, he himself had managed to bring her back to life with CPR… but still felt the need to glance her way in silent apology. She just shrugged it off with a soft ‘I’m okay,’ smile.

“Although silence would have been much more appropriate,” a stern look at each of their faces, “Xander has inadvertently pointed towards my next revelation.” Xander let out a smug grin, suddenly proud of himself.

“In spite of recognizing and being rather appreciative of just how purely evil Angelus was, The Master reportedly had a great dislike of him.” He briefly glanced through the second page of his notes before continuing.

“Angelus was soon dubbed The Scourge of Europe, earning notoriety for being one of the most sadistic and brutal vampires in history.”

“I don’t get it,” Buffy frowned. “If he’s that big of a bad, why is everyone still alive?” Not counting herself in the imagined dead list. After all, she _was_ the Slayer.

“I’ll get to that in a moment,” he raised a brow. Buffy pulled an imaginary zip across her mouth.

“Where was I?”

“Scourge of Europe,” Oz offered helpfully.

“Thank you, Oz. We’ll move onto the other vampire shortly, but first a little back story.” Giles rifled through the Diary in front of him and pulled out a couple of card-like objects.

Cordelia muttered in a low voice to Tara: “First? That’s all he’s been doing, sheesh!” Tara stifled a smile. Regardless of the snippy comments made through Mr Giles’ lecture, there was no doubt everyone was enthralled- and more than a little unsettled.

“Briefly, Angelus soon sired his first childe around 1860. A young woman – late teens, I’d say. She particularly fascinated him due to her also having the ‘sight’.” He ignored the sudden waving of hands in the air.

Clarifying, “Precognition.” Only two of the six pairs of eyes staring at him showed confusion. _Not a bad percentage ratio,_ Giles thought, before continuing. “This ability is not as rare as you’d think, but not something many would want to publicly admit to. Especially up to and including the early nineteenth century, 1800’s,” he added for Xander’s benefit.

“In those days, ignorance was rife, and thus, the mentally afflicted were frequently burned at the stake as either witches, or with the fear that they had been possessed by the devil.”

Their faces reflected their horror at his awful revelations. “So it is easy to imagine the secrecy of anything truly supranatural.”

After first stalking, and then ramping up his game by killing her family while she was forced to watch, the girl quickly fled to the nearest convent. Not deterred, Angelus, accompanied by his sire, Darla, breached the holy building.

“The pair massacred everyone before committing, um, indecent and brutal acts against her.” The others watched in fascination as Giles’ cheeks pinked. “Suffice to say, he had managed to drive Drusilla to complete madness before turning her.”

“Drusilla?” Another name Buffy recognized. “That bitch _was_ totally whacked.” Was it sick that she felt a little sorry for her now? _No matter_. It wouldn’t stop her from dusting her ass if ever the chance arose. “I mean, look at the guy she brought with her! All slimy antlers and stuff,” she made a gagging noise.

“Ah, yes, the Chaos Demon. Rather an unpleasant creature, but not that much of a threat as I recall,” Giles reminisced. “Seemed rather dense, too”.

“Looked like Vampirella thought so too, at the end. Slashed him from horn to horn right after we blew up The Judge.” Quite a few ‘ewws’ were heard after Buffy’s graphic comment.

Giles deftly slipped into the short silence to continue. “A lot of research was done at the time regarding Drusilla and her connections- which now will bring me to my pièce de résistance.” He held up a pair of cards in his hand.

“These were the first publicly available photographic processes. They were widely introduced in 1839- Daguerreotypes, named after the Inventor Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre.” He paused on noting the glazed expressions forming on the group’s faces, and simply handed them over to the nearest person.

“If you could, please pass them around. These two particular Daguerreotypes are the only true images of Angelus and Spike,” he explained, “so do be careful handling them” staring under lowered brows at Xander’s too tight grip. With an exaggerated gulp, the young man made a big show of gently holding the edges and passing them on.

On looking at the old photo, Cordy had to admit that it didn’t do Angelus justice. Just look at that hair for a start. Compared to how he looked now - _Can I just say hubba hubba?_

His eyes were completely different too. The image had captured a cold, cruel expression all too well. She shuddered and quickly passed them over to Tara. Thinking on how his eyes looked now soon melted the ice that had briefly formed in her veins.

“And now, on to his companion, who was turned around 1880: William the Bloody.”

“I thought you said his name was Spike?” A confused expression clouded Willows green eyes.

“He was formerly known as William the Bloody, and earned his new nickname later on. He acquired a habit of torturing his victims with railway spikes, “

“Gross!” Cordy scrunched up her face in disgust. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever eat again after tonight’s puke-fest.” Both Tara and Willow nodded in agreement. Xander just shrugged. Nothing put him of his food.

“I thought Angelus was the bad-ass,” Oz remarked.

“That he was” Giles agreed. “Reportedly, Spike was more about youthful rebellion – and most likely, drawn to more heinous acts by his desire to carve out his own reputation. Angelus was, I imagine, an extremely hard act to follow.”

Everyone wholeheartedly agreed with Giles’ next suggestion of a ‘little break’ and Xander immediately got up to join Cordy and Tara when they’d suggested popping out to grab pizza and sodas.

In response to Cordy’s dubious expression, he explained that he wanted to make sure that not only did they get the right toppings, but that they also brought enough to feed an army.

Giles took advantage of the break to carefully store away his precious Daguerreotypes, and to double check the notes he’d made during his second phone conversation due to Wesley calling back after doing a little research of his own.

****

_Crawford Street Mansion (Sun Afternoon)_

Spike half listened to the phone conversation Angel was having with their current employers. He was determined to ignore the self-inflicted hangover pain after another morning of heavy drinking. 

_Not like there’s anything else to do in this depressing dump,_ he thought morosely. It didn’t affect his ability to kick ass, anyway. That only happened when he had access to a hell of a lot more booze than this place stocked.

A grin lifted his lips on hearing Angel’s cold demand of a payment recalculation. Too bloody right. BoGoF wasn’t in the contract. A wider, satisfied smile spread across his lean face on hearing it confirmed.

Angel paced in wide circles as he spoke. It would have been funny to see him try that with a corded phone. Spike was kind of glad when he finally wandered out of the room, still talking away. The noise of their yacking was beginning to bother him. Pain pounded away like a hundred jack hammers had taken up residence in his skull.

For a brief moment, self-pity flared, and then dwindled just as fast. _Ah, fuck it. Embrace the pain._ Was worth it when considering it gave him a break from total boredom. And his shitty memories.

Stuck in this God-forsaken town didn’t help. In normal circumstances, they’d come in, do the job and leave the same night. Then a call would be made to notify whoever they were working for to update and ensure that the rest of their fee was paid in full. But this job had a toxic feel to it.

Something big was going on – and they deserved to know what it was. _Before,_ rather than after any kind of shit hit the proverbial fan. Everything the fancy Law Firm knew of this now-apparent gathering of the Shousace, for a start.

Spike’s thoughts lingered, almost longingly on just how easy it would be to simply cut and run. To leave the slayer and her human sidekicks to deal with it. Angel reappeared with the phone still stuck on his ear, and the temporary quiet spell was shattered. Sometimes it was a real bitch being unable to tune out of both sides in a phone call.

Coming to a standstill besides the imposing fireplace, Angel absently kicked a loose cinder into the dirty grate as he concentrated on the voice at the other end. From the whiny sound the guy was making, it was hard for Spike to tell who the Boss was: the employers, or Angel.

The call ended and Angel dropped gracefully onto the large brocade couch. Long heavily muscled legs stretched out as he leaned into the cushioned back. The epitome of casual. Unless, that is, you took the time to look into his shadowed eyes.

“So, what’s the plan? Do we carry on with the job, or get the hell outta dodge?” The new financial agreement _was_ pretty tasty, but Spike wondered if it was worth it if the whole thing could turn into a major clusterfuck. What was the use of money when you were dead- or _really_ dead, in their case?

They’d already accrued enough to live a pretty long unlife. By the time they’d even need to think of working again, those particular employers would hopefully be piles of dust in their graves. And no one would be around to remember they’d jacked this job in.

After a drawn-out silence, Angel finally responded. Said it wasn’t going to be easy- way too many variables. But for now, he was still willing to see the job through. Angel unnecessarily pointed out that it wasn’t just his decision.

It had always been both or neither when it came to work. Spike asked for all the details.

Afterwards, with a bit of thought, he’d decide whether they should be in or out.


	12. Giles Home.  (Sun evening.)

Everyone had now draped themselves around his lounge looking relaxed and happily sated after their much-needed food break. Glancing at the time, Giles felt relieved that he’d almost finished.

He began by explaining that the last bit of information had come directly from Wesley Wyndham Pryce, who had returned to the WC Head Office after the Faith debacle.

Although a portion of the Council thought his failure to control the new slayer were well below the required standards of a watcher, the higher-ups were less inclined to lose his innate research abilities, that were enhanced by his eidetic memory.

“It wasn’t entirely his fault,” Cordelia felt she had to stick up for young man. Although her little crush had ended on a gross note, he hadn’t been a bad guy.

“Maybe if he’d listened to Giles instead of acting like a self-righteous jerk, it might have panned out” Buffy reminded her.

Giles cleared his throat loudly as the two girls glared at each other. “Let’s get this done, shall we?” He watched them both deflate and was satisfied that they were now attentive.

“The gruesome team reigned unimaginable terror across Europe, until 1898, when all abruptly changed.” Giles stretched in his seat to ease the uncomfortable fullness in his stomach.

Xander rubbed his bloated midsection with a satisfied grin stretching his face. “Well we know they didn’t get dusted. Cos, hello? Still undead.”

Tara, who’d remained silent throughout the meeting, felt emboldened to ask “so what happened?”

Giles sighed. This was at the point where it became… muddy to say in the least. _Time to wrap it up_. He apprised them of the bare facts.

The four vampires were rampaging through Romania at the time. Same old to them. But this time Angelus and Spike raped, tortured, and then horribly murdered two teenage girls of the ancient Kalderash Clan – Romani gypsies.

“These were not just any gypsies, unfortunately for them,” Giles gravely pointed out. “The clan was ancient and a force to be reckoned with, their prowess in magick unmatched. And the girls – twins, apparently, also happened to be the daughters of the Elder’s – the extremely powerful Matriarch of the Clan, only son.”

Some witnesses living in the surrounding dwellings had been interviewed by the governing bodies of the small town at the time. The residents were said to have seen a vast group of ‘Gypsies’ descending upon the mansion the vampires had taken over. 

After the sounds of loud yells and fighting, a slightly smaller group exited many favoring wounds they’d received. A dozen men half carried, half dragged two tightly bound and barely-dressed men.

They were followed out of the building by another two gypsies who carefully carried bundles wrapped in dark blue cloaks. One was said to have seen a woman’s bloodied arm dangling from the covering, and had assumed that the two hostages captured were responsible for at least two murders.

“What about the two other vampires?” Oz quietly asked.

“One assumes they made their escape through the back of the building,” Giles replied. “As we all know, Drusilla made an appearance not so long ago, and as for Darla… there were whispers of her involvement in the attempted Harvest, which,” he added, “isn’t that surprising since the Master happened to also be her sire.”

Silence filled the room for almost a minute before Xander asked “What do you think happened to Fang and Fido?” Willow snickered at his funny. Cordelia just rolled her eyes.

“Well, from the absence of accounts of their movements from that time, it was assumed that the vampires had most likely been tortured to within an inch of their unnatural lives and had then received stakes to the heart.” Giles replied. “But as we are now aware that Angelus and Spike survived, they somehow- incredibly, managed to escape their captors.”

****

_The Chase Mansion. (Sun late evening.)_

Cordy swore under her breath as she attempted to quickly shove the key in the lock. The shrill sound of a phone could be heard even through the thick double doors.

_Finally!_ Slamming the door behind her, she rushed across the darkened entrance hall to grab the phone.

Hi, this is the- Hey, Daddy.” Smiling on recognizing the caller, Cordy took a moment to catch her breath while she waited for his next words.

“Hi sweetheart. Called to see how you are. We’re in Milan at the moment.” _God_ , she thought, they might as well be the Moon right now. After the grossness that was Giles lecture, Cordy had been jumping at every perceived sight and sound since she’d left his house.

She’d never missed them as much as she did right now. “I’m good. Milan, huh? I’m so beyond envious right now.” She plastered a smile on her face as if; by some weird phenomenon he’d be able to see it.

“Your mother wanted to pick up a few million outfits, and where better than here?” He joked.

“Haha, well, don’t let her bankrupt you, daddy ‘cos I don’t want you stuck over there forever… I miss you” swallowing the unexpected lump in her throat. Things had always been oddly difficult between herself and her mother, what with her being so self-involved- _Hello? Where do you think I got it from?_

But her dad… Although not as attentive as he’d been when she was a small child, he was still approachable, and easy to be around. When he _was_ around, that is.

“Ditto. We’ve booked the flights already, so should be in Sunnydale by Friday. _What’s that? Okay_ … your mother sends her love. And she asked if you want her to grab a few outfits?” _Who does she think I am, Willow?_ She wondered tartly, before graciously declining the offer.

“Okay, I’ll let her know.” From the tone of his voice, she knew he was Grinning. Most probably, recalling the embarrassment of her mother raiding Cordy’s closet a few years back. “Look, I’m going to hang up now. The signal is crappy in this store. Love you, princess. We’ll see you Friday.”

“Love you too. Have fun. Bye Daddy.” With a sigh, Cordy replaced the phone and suddenly realized that she hadn’t even switched on the lights.

After a mini debate with herself over either settling in front of the TV for an hour or head to bed, she decided the latter. Dead bolting the door and activating the alarm, Cordelia walked quickly up the curving staircase and headed to her room- making a mental note to lock her bedroom door.

*****

_Sunnydale University. Lunchtime (Mon)._

Cordelia strolled into the library as if she owned it. Rupert Giles doubted that the young woman was even aware of the impact she made on the male students present as she gracefully made her way towards him.

The newspaper he held hadn’t prevented her from seeing him tucked away in a corner.

He’d witnessed a marked difference in her character over the past year- starting around the time of their Graduation. Although a definite softening of her rather… unique way of regarding everyone as lower than a bug to be stepped on, her tongue could still fluster him at times, so he felt a little uncertain when she pulled out a chair at his table. 

*

“Hey, Giles. What’s up?” She sat down after placing her heavy purse on the table top with a relieved sigh. God, she seriously had to think about getting a backpack… only, eww. _No thanks. I’d rather suffer._

He looked up from his paper. “Umm, nothing much. Having a good day? “

“Not bad. It’ll probably destroy my reputation if anyone ever heard me say it, but I actually enjoy the Humanities class.” She’d dropped her voice – just in case anyone beyond their table was in earshot.

Giles smiled. “It simply shows you have a well-rounded view of the World. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Tell that to Aura.” Although her old friend had opted for a future including a rich husband and 2.1 kids, they still chatted on occasion. After the whole thing with Harmony-being-killed-by-a-vampire on Graduation day, it made you appreciate friends a lot more. Even if some reminded you of a time when you were just as shallow and stuck up as them.

It was one of the reasons she treasured her blossoming friendship so much. “I’m meeting Tara here, then we’re gonna decide what to do for lunch.”

“Not Pizza, I hope.” The amount consumed of that particular foodstuff on research nights made him sometimes wonder how his young charges weren’t leaning towards the plump side.

“God no” Cordy shuddered. I don’t want to end up looking like the elephant man”. Then her face lit up with a pleased grin. “Makes a change seeing you doing stuff like a normal person.”

“Well…” A slight hint of color tinged his cheeks. “I’m checking for unusual incidents,” flushing a little more when her eyes rolled. “And since we’re not having any luck on the sacrifice front, I’m also going through the Missing Persons column,” He frowned perturbed, “which is disturbingly long.”

“Hello? Monster Central here.” And they had a zillion creepy cemeteries to prove it. “You _so_ need a hobby.” Giles felt like a butterfly on a pin as she stared at him with a calculating gleam in her hazel eyes.

“There must be loads of normal stuff you could do. Healthier than sticking your nose in boring, smelly books all day. God knows what ancient germs are floating about in them.”

“I promise to look into it when demons and vampires finally decide to stop trying to end the world, or kill us”, Giles deadpanned.

Cordy let out a deep, dramatic sigh. She literally felt her good mood being sucked away by his depressing- but valid comment.

“Having fun?” Tara’s cheerful voice broke into her maudlin thoughts.

“I’m sitting with Mister Doom ‘n’ Gloom here. What do _you_ think? – No offence,” she added with a small grin at his disgruntled expression and Tara’s stifled laugh.

“None taken. Good Afternoon, Tara.” A faint smile touched his mouth before he primly adjusted his glasses and went back to his paper. As if hinting, he lifted it a little higher until his head was hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still getting used to AO3, so please forgive any posting errors I make. Not much real action for a while yet, but will get there. Still many chapters that are in draft-mode, so eventually, postings will become slower (sorry). Hope you are enjoying it so far, even though a lot is simply rounding out and talk/info. Thanks for the comments & Kudos so far. It warms my heart to see it. x  
> Cali x


	13. Sunnydale Main Street. (Mon Lunchtime)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying the fic so far. The titles in each chapter are deliberately specific timewise. It will become clearer further along as following chapters are (hopefully completed and ) published.
> 
> *******

Since they both had free periods for the rest of the day, Cordy and Tara discussed what to do with their spare time.

At present they sat outside a quaint little Italian Restaurant having lunch al fresco. Cordy had frequented the place for quite a few years, and doubted any other could top their amazing food. She related her telephone conversation with her father the night before.

It was good news to hear they were getting back soon, but… “Lately, home seems so… _empty_. Fair enough, Rosa is around until five, but then I’m on my own till eight in the morning.”

“But I thought you were used to being alone- preferred it, even?” Personally, Tara hadn’t known any different in a long time. Even when her father and brother were home, she’d always felt isolated. Among other things. Now being totally independent, she couldn’t imagine anything better.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Leaning her chin on her hand Cordy told how she’d locked the door of her bedroom the night before. “Maybe it’s all this stuff Giles has been banging on about this past week. For some reason, it’s really got to me this time round.”

Tara swallowed the mouthful of fettuccine then suggested:” I could stay over tonight i-if you like-“grinning happily when Cordy almost squealed with delight at the idea.

“Ohmigod! We could have a girl’s night! Talk about secret little crushes and stuff – ‘cos hey,” she faked a pout, “we don’t have any significant others to trash–talk.”

They both laughed, excited, then talked over plans for the rest of the day.

****

_Sun Cinema, State Street. (Mon Early Evening)_

The two young women were laughing and chatting about the movie they’d just watched as they exited the cinema, completely oblivious to the admiring glances they attracted by a couple of youths who walked out behind them.

During lunch, Cordy and Tara had discussed at length their plans for the rest of the day, and agreed on finishing off a due Psyche paper at Cordy’s home before heading off to watch a movie. Then it all would be finished off with an evening of good food and a little gossip.

Deciding earlier not to succumb to the temptation that was takeout, Cordy had begged Rosa to make her divine _arroz con pollo_ and accompanying _pan de yuca_ for dinner before the housekeeper left for the night. 

Since Rosa normally put the dinner menu together in advance, Cordy had promised to wash up and tidy the kitchen when they got back from watching a movie. On hearing that, Rosa was more than happy to oblige.

*

“I can’t believe I missed it first time round,” Cordy exclaimed. But then, in the past, she’d rarely bother to watch a movie without Keanu Reeves or Jude Law somewhere in it.

Tara had actually squealed a bit on seeing that _The Princess Bride_ was on a replay. She’d begged Cordy to watch it with her. “You’ll love it, trust me,” she promised, almost jumping on the spot in excitement when her friend acquiesced.

“It has to be one of my all-time favorite movies,” Tara admitted with a happy smile as they later strolled along the sidewalk towards the new multi-story car park at the end of State Street.

Since the new mayor had decided to revamp the street, making it pedestrian-friendly, vehicles weren’t allowed to park on it. At least they’d waited for the new carpark to be built first. Still, it meant walking the length of the street to get to it. They were discussing their favorite scenes and hardly noticed that it had gotten dark quickly since exiting the theater.

“What did you think of Prince Humperdinck?” Tara asked chuckling, and then faltered when noticing a black-clad figure out of the corner of her eye leaning against a lamp post further along the street. “Cordy,” she indicated with her head, rather than point a rude finger. “We’ve got company,” she whispered, suddenly nervous.

Cordy, who’d been laughingly giving her opinion on the ‘evil’ prince, automatically followed Tara’s troubled gaze, and stopped in mid-sentence when recognition hit. It was the vampire who’d surprisingly helped her out the other night. She felt a frisson of unexpected excitement as their eyes met; quickly replaced by growing fear when he straightened up from the lamp post.

Almost on instinct, Cordy moved to stand slightly in front of her friend as he approached with lithe grace. Grabbing the stake that was always in her purse since finding out vampires were real, she brandished it and warned him: “That’s close enough, fangy.” Cordy was glad to find that her voice didn’t hold the fine tremor that afflicted the hand tightly holding the stake. _God, when had it got so dark?_ she wondered fretfully. Lost in the moment of happy normality, they’d both missed the telltale shadows when they’d left the cinema and started their leisurely stroll.

After the gory history lesson given by Giles about the past exploits of the infamous vampire, Angelus and his cohort Spike the last thing she wanted was for him to know just how scared she was. _He’d probably get a kick out of it_ , Cordy thought, her wide eyes intent as she watched him get ever closer.

With less than ten feet between them, Angel came to a halt. Pushing his stylish leather duster aside he casually slid large pale hands into his pant pockets. “It isn’t wise to be out at night,” he finally spoke. His dark eyes swept over her from the top of her head to her instantly curling bare toes that peeked out of her delicate slim-heeled sandals. “I thought _you’d_ know that better than most.”

Cordy’s hackles instantly rose at his subtle admonishment, even as his low sexy voice sent tingles down her spine. “It’s not like we’re alone,” she sharply retorted glancing pointedly around, and then realized that the street was now deserted. _Well, crap_.

Cordy swallowed hard as he advanced a little more before stopping a few feet away. In the well-lit pedestrian zone, she was now able to see that his dark eyes were in fact a yummy Belgian chocolate brown.

A stifled sigh left her as she wondered if there was _anything_ that wasn’t gorgeous about his appearance. Even his pale flawless complexion suited him; a stunning combination with his dark hair and eyes… that were currently gazing at her with a tinge of humor.

So busy looking her fill that it took her a moment to realize that her fear levels had ebbed. Thinking on it, she came to the conclusion that as he’d saved her life before, why would he want to kill her now?

Feeling more confident, she lowered the tightly held stake- but kept it in her hand just in case she’d got it wrong. “What are _you_ doing out of your bat cave anyway?” she asked, a little off-kilter at being caught checking him out.

Angel grinned at her, obviously finding her choice of words amusing. _Damn it_ , the smile only increased the gorgeousness of his face. “Last time I checked it was a public area,” he replied, and then continued before she could respond. “Watch anything good?” he indicated the movie theater at the end of the street.

Cordy stubbornly refused to answer his question, not that sure that she wanted him to know their business. Then her head snapped round to stare at Tara in surprise when she responded with, “The P-Princess Bride.”

The very fact that her friend had overcome her usual shyness around strangers -especially in circumstances such as this, was truly impressive. Although her timing was a bit off, she thought with a slight grimace.

“Have you seen it?” Tara went on to politely ask him.

Cordy couldn’t stop the short laugh that left her mouth at the thought. “I seriously doubt it, Tara.” A single fine brow arched in mild scorn. “In between hunting and snacking on humans, when would _a vampire_ have the time for a romantic comedy?”

“Actually, I went to see it once.” Both brows lifted at his reply and Angel shrugged. ”I like watching movies.”

“But it’s a chick flick,” she explained, surprised by his admittance.

“It has pirates, monsters, and a man that was only nearly dead,” Angel smirked. “What’s not to love?” 

“But you’re not just an everyday neighborhood kind of vampire.” Cordy couldn’t get her head around it. He seemed so different compared to Giles earlier descriptions of his persona. “We do know who you are,” she declared feeling especially odd him striking up a casual conversation about movie interests. “You’re Angelus, the Scourge of Europe.”

His brown eyes widened for a split second before he responded. “Angel.”

“Huh?” Her confusion caused a small furrow to form between her brows.

“My name. It’s Angel,” he clarified, his expression now a little guarded.

Cordy’s chin tilted up as she replied with an outwardly uninterested air even as she thought privately that it suited him better. “Angelus, Angel,” she shrugged carelessly. “Same difference from where I’m standing,” instinctively taking a hurried step back when his hands abruptly left his pockets.

“Oh, I think you’d notice the difference, sweetheart.” Cordy’s pulse raced as Angel’s softly spoken words held the slightest hint of menace. Then as if sensing her sudden anxiety his tone lost all traces of it when he spoke again. “But you have nothing to worry about,” he gravely assured.

Cordy became so lost in the strangely regretful cast of his eyes that she hadn’t realized he’d stepped closer- until out of nowhere a faint gold shimmer ringed those soft brown irises as his narrowed gaze turned towards her friend. “You’re a witch.” It was said almost casually, but he was close enough for Cordy to pick up the sudden slight tension in his imposing frame.

Although he hadn’t moved, she instinctively pressed her palm against his middle and attempted to push him back a bit. “Haven’t you heard of personal space?” Cordy deliberately kept her voice even. “Because right now, you’re standing in mine!” She wasn’t sure what his issue was, but it was enough to put her on edge. It hadn’t helped that her quick move had caused her to drop the stake. _Just great, jeeze!_

She was inching sideways in an attempt to plant herself fully in front of Tara when he unexpectedly stepped back. It was only a small gap but enough for her to let out a breath of relief. The gold tinge had completely disappeared when he glanced back down at her. “I can smell her power.” Angel’s voice still held a trace of tension, enough for Cordy to keep her hand firmly where it was.

“Well, your doggy nose must be on the blink ‘cos Tara’s _not_ a witch!” The lie left her mouth with ease, not caring that he obviously knew it, going by the sudden lift of his dark brows.

“I wasn’t going to bite her if that’s what you were thinking,” Angel replied with a faint smirk.

“Says the evil vampire in front of two yummy humans” Cordy retorted hotly, pointing her finger so close it almost touched his nose causing his smirk to widen into a full blown smile.

“Yummy?” A hint of amusement swirled the chocolatey depths of his eyes and she flushed a little in response. _Hoo boy_. He was definitely dangerous- and not just because he was a blood-sucking vampire.

A slight twitch that tickled her palm had her looking down, and she was reminded of the fact that not only was her hand still pressed firmly against his abs, but that her traitorous fingers had been unconsciously flexing like kitten paws on a silk cushion; which had caused those _totally ripped_ muscles to tense. The blush already tinting her cheekbones spread in hot mortification as she hurriedly pulled her evilly groping hand away.

“I no longer feed on humans.” His next words had her head lifting sharply in surprise. He moved back a little more, muscular arms folding across his broad chest. “I don’t kill them either; not since…” Angel paused and his eyes lost focus.

Cordy was so intent on the vampire, busy trying to make sense of his words that she actually jumped at the sudden sound of Tara’s voice. “Romania!” She’d blurted out. Cordy glanced at her and watched as her eyes locked with Angel’s suddenly alert gaze.

“The gypsies, Cordy,” Tara reminded her. “They used strong magicks. I can sense it in you,” she told him.

Looking back and forth between the two of them, Cordy felt clueless. “What am I not getting here?”

Angel finally shifted his gaze from her friend and gave an almost imperceptive shake of his head before responding. “The Kalderash cursed us with souls.”

****

Romania. 1898

_The acrid stench of fear hung in the air like a pall. Angelus’ mouth watered copiously, impatient to push aside the pleasantries Darla loved so much._

_“We decided today was our boys’ treat,” she purred softly into his ear, slim pale arms wrapped around his thick neck, her body plastered against him._

_He gave her a cursory glance then looked over her fair head impatiently, attempting to see what had assailed his senses so deliciously from the moment he’d entered the building, but Drusilla blocked his view as she literally danced on the spot; her glittering eyes widening with excitement when the door behind him opened and her loved one entered._

_“My Spike is finally here and now the party can begin!” She clapped her hands with glee. “Can we let them open their presents now?” Her delicate face turned towards Darla, feral excitement twisting her pretty features. The blonde shook her head and twining arms tightened, thin fingers threading through Angelus’ hair to tug demandingly._

_“All in good time, my sweet, but first I want my boy to greet me in a proper manner.” China blue eyes gazed into his expectantly, and with an inward growl of building impatience he brought his head down and brutally devoured her scarlet painted mouth._

_Spike peered around the brunette and grinned with sheer delight. “Ahh, Dru, you’ve truly outdone yourself tonight. However shall I repay you for such a precious gift?” Striking dark brows wriggled deliberately and the answering girlish giggles were stifled as the sound of wet kisses and purring growls filled the room… but then the softest whimper intruded and avid curiosity had Angelus finally tearing his lips away from the woman in his arms._

_Flames danced and spat in the impressive stone fireplace casting its golden glow across the marble floor. Candles flickered warm yellow light from every available surface bringing an almost dreamy ambience to the cavernous and sparsely furnished chamber._

_But nothing compared to the gold fire that lit the dark vampire’s eyes as they finally sought out and rested on the ‘gifts’ his sire and childe had laid out artistically a few feet from the large hearth. Pulling away from the arms and body still clinging to him like poison ivy, Angelus stepped around the petite blonde, his tongue sliding out to moisten suddenly parched lips._

_He circled slowly, a lecherous smile lighting his strong pale face as glittering tigers eyes caught a glimpse of delicate ankles peeking temptingly from under the voluminous material of heavy, pale blue skirts. Wrists were tied together with red silken cords and pulled taut over their heads, the ends wrapped around the thick oak legs of a large damask-covered couch._

_Dropping to his haunches, Angelus reached out a large hand and ran it from hip to knee, a deep dark chuckle rumbling through his chest when a bare foot lifted and kicked out._

_With the accuracy of a deadly snake, he grabbed the fragile ankle and held it high, grinning in delight that the lower limbs had been left unbound. He brought it to his mouth; dropping light teasing kisses along warm, olive silky flesh, which quivered in his firm grip._

_Spike teased Drusilla’s smiling blood red mouth with biting kisses before releasing her to saunter over. Cool blue eyes ran over both the young girls huddled next to each other, liquid brown gazes frantic with fear above the confining gags. Their clothes although lacking the richness of wealth were still bright and flattering. Long dark hair hung loose around their shaking shoulders, and his eyes glinted with more than the reflection of the roaring fire._

_“Gypsies,” he breathed with a pleasured purr._

_The female vampires held hands and swayed coquettishly. “Not just ANY gypsies,” Darla responded with a triumphant grin, causing Drusilla to giggle and swing their joined hands._

_“Romany,” Angelus murmured softly, his free hand reaching down to slide the covering fabric along the trembling leg he still held fast. “I have no idea how you both managed such a difficult endeavor,” he grinned back briefly, “but be sure I’ll show you just how impressed I am, later.” His promise of reward made, Angelus’ dark head turned back to the banquet laid out before him before opening his mouth and suckling on the soft skin now bared to his hungry eyes._

_“And I look forward to it, my love,” Darla replied, licking her too-red lips as avid eyes followed the path of his roving hand and grinned with feral amusement when a muffled cry of pained distress echoed through the chamber following the sound of tearing fabric._

_His purr of delight as thick, blood-tinged fingers slid between his lips had her impatient for a taste, she tugged on Drusilla’s hand taking a step forward, but stilled when a low growl warned her they were close enough. Willing to let him have his fun alone for a little while longer, she settled down to watch._

_“Twice the pleasure,” Drusilla giggled softly and pulled away from Darla and began to dance around the room. “Two little girls share the same pretty face, isn’t that just wonderful?”_

_Spike shifted his avid gaze from the now bare writhing limbs of the girl chosen by his sire and tugged the other closer. He ran a long finger down the side of her frightened face, enjoying the silky texture, the gentle smile that graced his sculpted mouth at odds with the savage light in his eyes. “Wonderful, pet, truly wonderful.”_

_*_   
_*_   
_“It hurts, yes? Good. It will hurt more.” The old Romany woman smiled, her wrinkled lips twisting with a hint of glee as she looked down on the two prone vampires with hate in her eyes._

_“You don’t remember… everything you’ve both done. In a moment, you will. The faces of everyone you killed… they will haunt you, and you will know what true suffering is….”_


	14. Scene 1: Chase Mansion. (Mon evening)

“I must say, this is the best chicken and rice casserole I’ve ever tasted.” Giles expression reflected his pleasure. “You must offer my complements to your housekeeper,” he continued, reaching for another homemade cheese roll with gusto.

The girls grinned as they watched him. “That’s the reason we decided to ask you here instead of turning up at yours.” Cordy explained.

“Well, thank you again for the kind invitation,” he smiled across the kitchen table before taking an eager bite of the soft roll.

About to settle down with a ‘new’ book earlier, Giles had not been happy when his phone had started to ring. He’d been tempted to ignore it, then realised that in his line of work it just wasn’t an option. Hoping his first free night in the last week wasn’t about to go belly up, he reluctantly answered the phone.

The surprise of Cordelia’s voice quickly faded to be replaced with mild annoyance as she insisted he go over to her house ‘asap’. Obviously picking up on his reluctance, she turned quietly serious. Both girls had apparently ‘bumped into’ Angelus shortly after leaving the cinema. His irritation bled away as she continued. Things were said: “Real important stuff, Giles.” 

Giles had immediately asked why on earth they hadn’t simply come to him? Cordelia went on to explain that her parent’s housekeeper had acquiesced to preparing a special dinner for herself and Tara. She then suggested that he could join them – if he hadn’t already eaten.

As it was, he hadn’t gotten round to making himself anything, and when she revealed the contents of the menu, Giles was much more amenable.

It was decided by Cordelia that they enjoy their meal and then talk after, explaining that it was her father’s rule that they never talk business at the dinner table. The delay made Giles a bit anxious initially, but felt it would be rude not to stick to his wishes even though he wasn’t there to play host.

The three of them sat around a large wooden table that showed signs of frequent scrubbing, in the large modern kitchen. It turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant half hour, and he’d soon found himself relaxing and surprisingly enjoying their company. 

Once finished, Giles helped the girls rinse and stack the dishwasher and tidy the kitchen. Coffee was poured by Cordelia who quietly stated that they were going to need it. Feeling a sense of foreboding after noting their grave expressions, he followed them into a large lounge.

Being his first visit to the Chase estate, Giles found himself admiring the décor and furnishings. Cordelia’s parents had impeccable taste. He wasn’t as surprised by that considering their daughter was always well-turned out. As was the way for most young females, skirts were a little too short in his personal opinion, although to be fair Cordelia’s clothing tended to lean more towards classical styles with often-demure necklines.

The girls opted to share one of two generously wide couches while he settled for a large and extremely comfortable easy chair. He lifted the large porcelain mug to take a sip of his coffee just as Cordelia opened the conversation with:

“The vamps have souls, Giles.”

******

_Scene 2: Crawford Street Mansion, (Mon night.)_

Lying on his back in bed with hands clasped behind his head, Angel stretched his long legs, crossing them at the ankles while ruminating on his earlier encounter with the beautiful brunette.

He’d been on yet another scouting mission, hoping to finally come across the lair of the Shousace. So far they’d both been unsuccessful. Angel had picked up her unique scent as he cut through the center of town and become instantly distracted. He’d watched as she walked leisurely down the street, accompanied by the tall blonde girl Spike had attempted to rescue the other night, who’d quickly nudged her after spotting him loitering.

She had called her ‘Cordy’. After a little thought he came to the conclusion that her full name must be Cordelia, which he had read was thought to be from the Celtic name _Creiryddlydd_ , which translated into ‘daughter of the sea’.

Angel called to mind Shakespeare’s King Lear, whose favorite daughter, Cordelia, was the youngest of three daughters. Her elderly father had exiled her as a response to her honesty when he’d asked for professions of love from his daughters -to determine how to divide the lands of his kingdom between them.

Cordelia’s sisters, Goneril and Regan, gave deceitfully-lavish speeches professing their love, flattering his vanity. Seeing right through her sisters’ feigned professions of love, Cordelia had refused to do the same. Lear deemed her answer: “Love, and be silent” as too simple. He’d asked her, “What can you say to draw a third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.”

Cordelia had replied, “Nothing, my lord. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I love your majesty according to my bond; no more nor less.” Unlike her father and sisters, Cordelia had been able to differentiate love from property. Feeling outraged and humiliated that she wouldn’t publicly lavish love on him, King Lear had banished Cordelia from the kingdom.

Angel quickly decided that name suited his own Cordelia. She too seemed to say what was on her mind without considering if it was what you wanted to hear. He liked that.

On recalling the withering expression from clear hazel eyes as she stared him down, Katherina Minola, a girl from a different play also came to mind. She could quite easily fit that character too, grinning in amusement at the thought.

Angel then mulled over their conversation. The watcher had been busy. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. A small part of him wanted to rip out his throat when thinking of the fear it had brought to Cordelia’s beautiful eyes, even though she’d hidden it pretty well. But she couldn’t mask the scent of it.

Even with the gypsy curse, Angel still got a heady buzz of excitement whenever he came across it. Having a soul didn’t mean he wasn’t still a demon.

Angel hadn’t missed the shimmer of growing attraction in her beautiful expressive eyes. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel the hot burn of her small hand pressed against his solar plexus, her slim fingers unconsciously kneading as she talked.

That had had felt good. _Almost too good_ , he thought, his mouth quirking at the corner as he remembered his unbidden physical reaction. Yet another advantage to be found in wearing a heavy and thankfully concealing duster.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Cordelia now knew, he decided. At least there was a possibility that now being aware of his soul, she might manage to get past the fact that he was a vampire. But only if it turned out that it was just fear of harm that had stopped her.

He also had to consider how she’d felt about his reaction towards her friend, the witch. Ancient magicks had the same scent and his kneejerk response to it, no matter how mild, had still been unsettling. It made him wonder how he’d have reacted if there had also been any hint of gypsy blood in the mix.

After revealing the curse bestowed on them by the gypsies, Cordelia’s mouth had dropped open in shock. Even the witch –Tara, he recalled, looked surprised, sensing the magicks but not the reason it was there, obviously.

The conversation soon petered out, the atmosphere becoming awkward after a few questions were asked. He’d quickly decided not to reveal his and Spike’s occupation. From past experience Angel knew that nugget of information probably wouldn’t go down too well.

On the upside, after he’d retrieved the dropped stake and handed over much to their surprise, they’d agreed to let him accompany them to her car when he offered.

Cordelia had bluntly commented that he probably wasn’t the only creature of the night roaming Sunnydale looking for a free snack. Angel couldn’t help the amused smile that stretched his full lips as he thought about it. If they ever did get together, she’d certainly keep him on his toes.

Angel couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much as he had lately.

Damn, he _really_ liked her sass.


	15. Giles’ house. (Mon night)

Following his evening at the Chase estate, Giles decided to make a phone call to Wesley and update him on the latest, truly incredible revelation acquired from the horse’s mouth so to speak.

His decision to reveal their findings had been in part made with the hope that a future door would be open if ever there was a need for assistance. After all, he was no longer in a position to freely access the Watcher’s Counsel’s vast resources.

Wesley had gasped aloud when Giles had told him, and then after a stunned pause has asked if he could call him back. He hurriedly explained that the revelation had set off a few bells that he now needed to sound out, as it were. Giles naturally agreed, instantly curious.

Sitting back in his seat after the second call ended, Giles went over the new information with a fine toothcomb. Wesley had once come across a thick file full of information about an unnamed vampire duo known to be involved in mercenary work. Guns for hire; or as he weakly joked: ‘fangs for hire’. 

Listening with rapt interest as Wesley went on to read out the entries that had been infrequently updated over the past 80 or so years, Giles was inclined to agree. “I have come to the conclusion that these vampires are most definitely Angelus and Spike,” Wesley confided. “It makes sense to me that they would have to consider their options after such an event. I imagine that they would have quickly become pariahs to their own kind.”

Stuck between two worlds. Hated by their own kind and feared by humans. It would explain much, especially the vampires’ overt disinterest in becoming involved in the wider picture. The current contract they’d obviously accepted had just happened to lead them to Sunnydale. 

He mulled over Wesley’s final comment: “As far as I can see, going by the data collected, all contracts taken on only involved the eradication of troublesome demons; including I might add, vampires”. This information gave him some hope.

The slight possibility that there might still be a chance of them agreeing to form a temporary alliance, as frankly, Buffy had so far come up empty regarding the Shousace’ purpose and whereabouts, and all he’d succeeded in doing was to find out the species of demons they were dealing with.

****

_Giles’ House (Tues evening)._

After yet another late night, Giles had woken up feeling tired and rather irritable. It wasn’t helped by the constant thorn in his side waylaying him within seconds of arriving at the Library a few hours later than his usual start. It was beginning to feel like he was being stalked by the damned woman!

It had taken all of his willpower to keep his expression neutral when Ms Carling smugly told him how pleased she was that he’d taken heed of her ‘instructions’ regarding Xander and Oz. She then went on to comment on the fact that he no longer seemed to be around much in the evenings.

As she blathered on, Giles noticed Buffy had come in at some point and was hovering in the background with a humorous grin on her face as she openly eavesdropped. Using her appearance as an opportunity to end the one-sided conversation, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as the librarian, with obvious reluctance walked away.

Buffy’s giggling comment of ‘somebody’s got a crush’ had made Giles blanch with horror at the thought and had him swiftly replying with, “well it certainly isn’t me!’ He then changed the subject, taking the opportunity to arrange a group meeting for that evening and directing her to kindly inform the others.

He then went on to ask her how patrol had gone the night before. Buffy had shrugged, looking disappointed. Besides a couple of vamps and a demon- not Shousace, it had been pretty much the same old. Wherever they were hiding out so far still remained a mystery.

The evening couldn’t come soon enough for Giles, spending most of the day avoiding Ms Carling- even at one point locking his office door and pretending he wasn’t in when she’d knocked on it shortly after lunch. Promptly at 5pm he’d snuck out, relieved to see the woman talking to a small group of students with her back conveniently turned towards him.

Although not unattractive, there was something about her nature that Giles found deeply unpleasant. As he pulled out his car key and pushed it in the lock, he seriously considered the idea of following a different career path. The Magic Box had lain empty for well over a year now since the previous owner had been killed by a vampire as she’d exited the building. _Hmm_ Maybe he’d look into it when things had quietened down _._

Buffy promptly arrived with the others at around 6pm, informing him that Cordelia and Tara would be coming a little later, saying something about one of them having to make a quick stop at her dorm first. Giles took the opportunity to share the details of the events related by both girls the previous night. 

Cordelia and Tara arrived as the others were still digesting the news with varying degrees of amazement, cutting short Xander’s opening response. Giles quickly informed that he’d related the news, and that they were just in time to hear new information he’d been made aware of after talking it over with Wesley.

As Cordy and Tara squeezed into a gap left on the sofa, Xander spoke. “As I was saying- until you came in and interrupted—” he got a Pfft from Cordy— “that if Dead Bat and Robin have souls, why won’t they agree to help out?”

Buffy scoffed, “Just cos they have souls doesn’t mean they’re gonna be all sweetness and light.” Shrugging; “look at Charles Manson. He has a soul.”

“As far as we know,” Willow piped up, then blushed a bit as she suddenly became the center of attention. “How else can you explain all his evil deeds?” she asked in her defence.

“Unfortunately, having a soul does not automatically mean you’re a good person, Willow,” Giles responded. The others sat back with a touch of resignation: Giles was in lecture mode. “While it is true they give us the ability to experience emotions; to basically have a conscience, thus be able to feel remorse and such, there are anomalies- certain psychological imbalances- some very extreme. Sociopathy for instance.”

Cordelia found herself leaning forward, actually finding his explanation interesting for once.

“Most of what we think we know is ecclesiastical- based on religious teachings and esoteric studies” he elucidated when noting that Xander’s eyes had begun to glaze.

“Basically, what would be unconscionable to one may be acceptable to another. I could go on,” pointedly ignoring the muttered, “I just bet you could,” from the young man in question, he continued; “but no one really knows enough about it to truly answer all the questions pertaining to the soul’s purpose.”

“If that’s the case, Giles, how can we state that monsters don’t have souls?” Oz asked, with a trace of edginess in his voice that most in the room instantly picked up.

Giles considered his reply carefully, as he would have been blind not to realize why Oz, of all people had asked that question. Since his affliction meant that once every full moon phase his physical body and mind were taken over in the form of werewolf, he sensed his answer had to be as specific as possible.

“We throw around the word ‘soul’ so easily- omitting to add ‘human’,” Giles pointed out. “Because that in essence is what it is- a human soul. Specific – _normally_ ,” he added, on thinking of the two vampires, “only to _human_ beings.” He leaned forward in his seat before continuing.

“As for demons, what do we really know?” he asked. “When we call them soulless beings, maybe we are doing a disservice along the line. What we probably should be saying is “Demons do not possess _human_ souls.” Unfortunately, this explanation didn’t seem to impress Oz much.

“So, what happens to mine when I change? Does it just disappear?” Oz asked, adding, “I have no memory of being the wolf, but I realize after that I was dangerous- evil even.” Taut silence settled over the room like a cloying blanket.

Willow reached out to clasp his hand. “Hey, you’re _not_ evil either way, don’t say that.” she squeezed his fingers softly with her own as the others murmured agreement.

Giles felt a twinge of relief that he’d actually taken the time to read whatever was available about werewolves, and was thankful to be able to put the young man’s mind at ease.

“Willow is right,” he began. “You’re not evil- or soulless, I might add.” All eyes now turned to him, with hopeful anticipation in their eyes. “Just remember, it isn’t _just_ a physical change. Your mind is also overtaken by the primitive urges of a-a rather extreme version of a feral wolf.” He sat back relaxing by degrees as Oz’ tense expression began to soften with dawning understanding.

“A feral wolf has but a single purpose: the hunt for sustenance. Wolves aren’t capable of human rationale, although there is no doubt they are skilled when it comes to the hunt. There are some extremely well researched essays at the watcher’s council that points to an idea that the human brain temporarily reduces in both size and capability to that of the animal you become.”

Staring directly into the young man’s eyes he strongly assured, “That is why you do not retain the memory of your brief interlude as a werewolf. Naturally you have a _human_ soul, Oz. ‘Monster’ is an ambiguous descriptor used for both demons and humans alike, and Lycanthropes are _not_ demons.”

*

Once certain that Oz understood and was thankfully reassured, Giles went on to reveal the content of his phone conversation with Wesley with regard to Angelus and Spike- “Or ‘Angel’, as Cordelia has informed me, is the moniker the vampire now uses,” Giles corrected.

“No difference either way in my opinion,” Buffy declared with a frown.

Cordy noted the unknowingly part-repeated words. Almost exactly the same ones she herself had said the night before. Although, Cordy reminded herself, it had been _before_ she’d found out about them having souls. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“Yes, well,” Giles cleared his throat. “This slight change of moniker was most likely seen as way for Angelus to partly distance himself from his pre-soul activities,” he said. “It actually makes some sense, I suppose.”

“Spike didn’t,” Xander reminded him.

“Maybe he didn’t feel as much, you know, remorse as Angelus did?” Willow considered. Buffy shot her a quick look, her mind going back to the moment she’d seen that odd look in his eyes. Thinking on it now, she felt positive it had been such an emotion, but was unwilling to bring it up.

Giles removed and polished his glasses as he responded. “He was known for quite a while as William the Bloody, whereas the name ‘Spike’, surfaced not long before his last exploits in Romania.” Everyone cringed on recalling just why he’d obtained that nickname.

“Still, you’d think he’d want to change it to something less…railroad-y,” Cordelia eww-ed. The rest agreed even as Giles reminded them that the Billy Idol lookalike was also known to be ‘rather rebellious’.

“Or maybe he didn’t want to forget what he’d once done?” Tara quietly suggested. The surprise of her unexpected input didn’t last as the girl’s insight gave everyone pause for thought.

After another thirty minutes of discussion, Giles wrapped it up by stating his earlier consideration of broaching the subject of an alliance.

Buffy instantly baulked at that. “They’re still vampires, Giles. I don’t trust them,” she stated stubbornly and thinned her lips as she added, “especially Angelus!”

Cordy pffted and rolled her eyes. “If I recall rightly, a certain slayer had the idea first,” she said with a disdainful curl of her full lips. “You’re only saying that now ‘cos you don’t like him.” She pointed a slender finger at her before folding her arms.

“Why do _you_ care?” Buffy demanded, a single dark brow rising with mild interest at the sudden soft flare of color that emphasized the brunette’s cheekbones.

Shrugging casually, Cordy glanced away. “I don’t.”

Giles regarded her with a flicker of concern darkening his eyes as he suddenly recalled the softening of Cordelia’s face, and briefly averted gaze as she related their unexpected meeting with Angelus.

As far as he was concerned, the sooner the Shousace were dealt with the better, as right now, all he could envision was future pain and possibly heartbreak for Cordelia chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the chapters written after this are mostly drafts, and am hoping I manage to put them together well enough to post. Fingers Xed I succeed.


	16. Wicca Group (Weds evening)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when I'll have the time to put the rest of the drafts into proper chapters- not this side of Xmas anyway (sorry). Hoping you enjoy that last one completed.
> 
> Have a great Xmas & New Year. 😘
> 
> ************

Drippy tallow candles flickered softly in the darkened room creating rippling shadows of the small group that stood facing each other within a nine foot circle that was temporarily marked with thick white chalk on which had small rocks spaced out along the line. The candles, just outside the circle, were positioned at the cardinal points on the compass: **Water** to the **North** , **Air** to the **East** , **Fire** to the **South** , and **Earth** to the **West**.

Tara watched intently as the High Priestess placed the cup of ritual wine on the center of the pentagram, which was beautifully hand painted onto a thickly woven cloth set in the center of the circle. She drew the sign of the pentacle over it in the air. When she reached out her arms everyone joined hands over the cup and chanted:

_From the Earth sprouts the seed;_

_From the seed sprouts the plant;_

_From the plant sprouts the fruit;_

_From the fruit sprouts the wine;_

_The humans partake of the wine;_

_And will one day return to the Earth;_

The cup was then held high.

_May the Lord and Lady bless this wine_

_As I partake in part of the great cycle of life._

Pouring out a little of the drink into the libation dish, the High Priestess took a sip herself, and then passed the cup around with the wish:

_May you never thirst._

She then placed the cakes in the center of the pentagram and drew a pentacle in the air over it and then they all chanted:

_From the Earth sprouts the seed;_

_From the seed sprouts the plant;_

_From the plant sprouts the grain;_

_From the grain sprouts the bread;_

_The humans partake of the bread,_

_And will one day return to the Earth;_

She lifted the plate high.

_May the Lord and Lady bless these cakes_

_As I partake in part of the great cycle of life._

Some of the cakes were put into the libation dish. After taking a bite of one, she passed the rest of cakes around with the wish:

_May you never hunger._

Then they all sat down in the circle crossing their legs, and eagerly partook of the simple feast. Tara relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of positive energy everyone around her exuded, and reveled in the subtle presence of the gods.

Glancing shyly around at the other members her eyes abruptly connected with Willows. She held her breath on realizing that she’d caught the other girl staring almost unblinkingly at her, an intense and oddly confused expression starkly written across her features.

Tara was almost certain that under the confusion there was also the tiniest speck of interest. Not that of a casual acquaintance, but something… deeper. It triggered an unbidden feeling in her solar plexus which surprised her enough to make her suddenly uncomfortable. As if sensing it, Willow hurriedly looked away.

_Fact check: Willow’s not gay!_ Tara reminded herself, a little shocked by the brief experience. _And, most importantly, she has a boyfriend that she’s obviously in love with._ A boyfriend who just also happened to return Willow’s feelings, as well as the obvious added fact that he was a really cool guy. 

_And, hello?_ The whole cheating thing that she’d done with another guy- namely Xander Harris of all people? Cordy would flip! Slightly shaking her head to clear it, Tara put it down to the stirring ritual –and an overactive imagination.

Later on when they quietly exited the building to find Oz waiting, Tara, feeling more uncomfortable and awkward by the second had rapidly made her excuses – an unfinished assignment was waiting for her. As she hurried to her dorm building, Tara was painfully aware that Oz was still watching her with brows raised in surprise. 

She overheard him ask his unusually silent girlfriend if anything was wrong. Willow mumbled something too quiet to catch but which must have satisfied his curiosity as they then headed off across the car park.

*****

_Patrol. Cemetery (Weds night)_

Buffy was out on patrol as usual- only alone which kinda sucked. But as Giles had explained – yet again, it was ‘for the best given the circumstances’. Still pretty boring not having her friends to talk to though.

An hour in and things were still quiet, which made it even worse. So far she hadn’t come across even a trace of a single demon or vamp. Swinging her arm casually, flipping her trusty stake she suddenly froze on hearing a short sharp scream.

Before Buffy had a chance to move more than a few feet in the direction of the sound, a girl suddenly appeared out of a nearby mausoleum squealing as a guy exited after her and quickly followed. The flushed and giggling face of the girl and the thankfully ‘normal’ guy laughing breathlessly as he called for her to wait up had her swiftly shoving the stake out of sight in the back of her jeans waistband. 

They stopped abruptly on seeing her standing there, and then looked around curiously before giving her an odd look. As they shrugged with rapid disinterest, hooking arms and went to stroll past her, Buffy asked them sharply “What the hell is wrong with you people, wandering around here after dark?”

After a shocked silence, the girl responded with an annoyed “Could say the same about you.” She went on to add with a sneer, “What’s wrong, blondie? Been stood up? Not surprised what with your choice of outfit.” The girl’s eyes narrowed as they swept over her casual clothes with mild disdain, mirroring the look Cordelia had often threw her way in High School.

Before Buffy could think to respond, the guy by the girl’s side chuckled a little uncomfortably. “Ouch, babe, talk about harsh. Come on, let’s go check out a few more creepy mausoleums,” he suggested tugging at her arm. They then walked off quietly laughing to themselves. 

Buffy stared after them with her mouth hanging open, stunned. _Okay, bitch please!_ Anger flared hotly for a moment. Maybe she should just leave them to it. And end up being some vamp’s dinner and dessert? She let out a heavy sigh and pouted. But then, unlike those clueless _idiots_ she was a _slayer_ , and as such, it was her duty, no matter how mad she was, to protect them.

With a frustrated growl she began to follow after them, keeping an unobtrusive distance and quietly muttering angrily about how all cemeteries should really be fenced off and locked up after dark. To at _least_ put off the majority of thrill seekers, as there would always be some who’d be determined to get themselves killed. Not only would it help shorten the long fatality list of the town, it’d make her job a lot easier to boot.

The soft cool breeze carried the sound of new voices. Buffy halted in her tracks as she recognised the familiar accent. As quick as a flash she stealthily ran and hid behind a corner of a nearby mausoleum and waited. A few seconds later a pair of Shousace demons emerged from the trees at the far end of the boundary line. 

Leaning further forward Buffy attempted to listen to whatever they were saying while still keeping out of their sights. Then she nearly jumped out of her skin when a low voice suddenly spoke inches from her ear, “Fancy a workout?”

Primed for attack, Buffy whirled around. Stake held high she lunged before taking a good look at who she was knocking to the ground.

“Careful with that, luv, you might hurt someone,” Spike whispered with a grin as he stared up at her from his new position flat on his back on the damp grass, with Buffy pinning him in place with strong but slender thighs tight either side of his lean hips and a small hand pressed firmly against his chest.

Her arm which had been raised ready to deal a fatal blow faltered on realising who had almost given her a heart attack. She hadn’t even been aware of his presence, so intent on the approaching demons, and now she was royally pissed- at herself as well as the stupid vampire.

“You idio-!” quick as a snake he covered her mouth with his cold hand, at the same time bright blue eyes looked beyond her; a pale finger pressed to his lips. She instantly froze remembering the demons approach. Wrenching his hand away from her tingling mouth, Buffy lowered her stake and quickly followed his gaze.

When the talking continued without pause she breathed a sharp sigh of relief, glared hotly at Spike before agilely bounding to her feet and retaking her earlier position, not even realising that she hadn’t thought twice about turning her back on the vampire.

In the distance they both heard faint laughter. So did the demons, Buffy noted, and rolled her eyes. _Just great_. She glanced at Spike who now stood close to her side: _Two against two?_ He nodded, catching on to her unspoken question. They waited until the demons passed then jumped out as one….

They fought well together, Spike admitted as they matched blow for blow until finally, both demons were stretched out on the ground satisfyingly dead. It crossed his mind briefly that killing hadn’t actually been the plan originally hatched out with Angel after the last fight had gone down.

_What he doesn’t know can’t hurt_ , he decided. Then tensed as he sensed they were no longer alone.

“I thought we’d agreed to follow them and see where they went?” The sound of Angel’s annoyed voice caused Buffy’s spine to stiffen as her wary eyes latched onto his tightly drawn face.

“They were about to chow down on two humans,” Spike revealed, making sure he got in first, fully aware of the stirring anger coming off both now-tense figures.

“Well maybe if the slayer had done her job and taken them out of the equation, you could have tracked the demons after.”

“I’m seeing two less demons to worry about. A win-win,” Buffy retorted tightly. “I find them, I kill them,” she added.” That’s in my _job_ description, too.” Folding her arms tightly across her chest, Buffy spread her legs slightly for extra balance, making it all too clear to the vampires that the slayer was more than ready to try and take Angel on if it came to it.

“Only problem being the need to find where they’re hiding out.” Angel replied, ice coating every word.

“Oh? I see; what do a few dead humans along the way matter?” Buffy spat out, and glared into his rapidly darkening eyes.

“You’re putting words in his mouth, pet,” Spike interrupted calmly, his muscles tightening even as he attempted to rid the thickness of the-now cloying atmosphere. He _really_ didn’t want a confrontation with another slayer, even if he only ended up being a witness to one.

Buffy took a moment to turn her furious glare his way. “Butt out, Spike!”

He instantly raised his hands and stepped back. _Sod it; let ‘em sort it out between themselves._ He thought with resignation, pulling out his smokes and lighting one up. He ignored the stirring of mild anxiety in his gut, guessing Angel would have to man up and be the rational one. He was pretty good at that. Usually.

“Spike’s right. I meant that you should have concentrated on getting the humans out of harm’s way while letting him have a chance to track them,” Angel replied, his tone now deliberately losing its hard edge.

Buffy’s expression calmed to a degree and Spike let himself relax a bit- until she took a step forward.

“Just out of curiosity, _Angelus_ ,” she pointedly began, obviously hoping, but not succeeding to get a rise out of the vampire, “are you planning on telling us _if_ or when you do find out?”

“I could ask you the same question?” Angel threw back at her, and she quickly frowned, obviously unsure of what her answer would be.

Angel folded thickly muscled arms across his chest, his pale face reflecting his cynicism. “Once we do find them, they’d no longer be a threat to either of us, so the point is moot.”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open, stunned by his sheer arrogance. “Wow! You really think you two could kill them all by yourselves?” Her temper visibly rose when he ignored her and actually turned his back on her! _Jerk_!

“Time to move,” he told Spike before heading off without a backward glance.

Spike sighed and shifted his feet before glancing almost hesitantly across at the still-fuming slayer. “Don’t take it personal, luv,” he jerked his head to indicate the rapidly disappearing figure. “He’s like that with everyone.” Dropping his finished smoke and crushing it beneath his heavy boot, Spike backed up. “See you around, and thanks for the workout,” he dropped a slight wink before turning to follow the other vampire.

“Ass!” Buffy muttered harshly; even as she shook off the slight tingle that had suddenly blossomed deep in her belly as she watched the lean vampire lithely stride away.

*******

_University Grounds, Lunchtime. (Thurs)_

The girls sat comfortably on the sun-warmed grass in the grounds of the university, leisurely eating their packed lunches.

As Cordy chattered lightly about her day so far, she noticed that Tara was more or less off with the fairies. “Okay, what’s up?” She eventually asked after the tenth time her friend had replied with a distracted “Uh huh”. 

Tara flushed a bit when her eyes quickly focused on Cordy’s half amused, partly concerned face. She hesitated, feeling a bit daft now in the cold light of day.

With a resigned sigh at the signs of growing impatience she quietly related the incident at the Wicca group meet. The weird look she’d received from Willow and the conflicted feelings experienced at the time.

Cordy’s mouth dropped open in shock. “ _Willow_?!” Snapping her jaw shut Cordy thought for a moment with a slight frown before continuing. “Out of all the hot people you could crush on in the world, it ends up being Willow Rosenberg?”

Tara couldn’t help but laugh at the accompanying exaggerated pout. “Hey, you had your chance with me,” she replied with a smirk.

“I’m not your type, remember?” Cordy responded with a big grin.

They both laughed at the memory of the moment Tara had initially confided her interest in her own gender, and Cordy had candidly asked her if her interest included herself, stating she wouldn’t be surprised what with her being total eye candy. 

Cordy’s smile faded as she now asked “Did she…?” 

Tara instantly shook her head. “No, not a word. Although…” she fiddled with a blade of grass before continuing. “I had a feeling there was a teensy weensy bit of interest- but she also looked really confused and a bit scared.” She let out a long sigh. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m not even going there. She has a _boy_ friend for a start. And he seems a really nice guy.”

“Oz is the best.” Cordy nodded, remembering his heartsick expression that night they’d turned up at the library and found Willow and her ex macking on each other while Buffy was taking out the vampire. It obviously hadn’t even occurred to them that the slayer wasn’t alone. But unlike her, Oz had forgiven his girlfriend shortly after.

He actually loved her, whereas it had brought home to Cordy that she didn’t feel the same way about Xander. After that it was pretty easy to end the relationship. But she still hadn’t forgiven him for it, even now. _I mean: Willow?_ She thought acidly. What did that say about _her_ that he’d risk their relationship for a bit of saliva-swapping with that _conniving_ little witch?

Cordy quickly shook off her temporary funk and concentrated on the present. “Maybe you’re just hung up on redheads?” She reminded Tara, who over a month earlier had been covertly checking out a girl at the Espresso Pump. “Even _I_ could see what a hotty _she_ was.”

Tara flushed a little on recalling the incident, color flaring when also thinking of her instant panic that had her grabbing Cordy’s arm and dragging her out of there. The ‘hotty’ in question had caught her admiring gaze and had smiled sweetly, giving a definite wink.

Tara had known without a doubt for a long time that she was physically and emotionally drawn to her own gender rather than the male of the species. Trouble was, what with her severe lack of confidence and annoying shyness as well as being plagued with bouts of stammering, she’d never actually done anything about her stirring desires.

Then it suddenly hit home to her on just how much she’d changed from that painfully introverted persona to that of a more confident young woman she was now gradually turning into. 

But at the same time Tara also accepted that Willow was a definite no-no; Oz naturally being a very big factor. She’d never forgive herself if she somehow became the reason for any kind of fallout. He’d been there, got the T-shirt.

The cheating bit came in a close second. How could you even trust someone who’d do something like that, anyway? Thinking more on it, Tara came to the conclusion that Cordy could be on to something. Maybe she _did_ have a thing for redheads in general after all?

With a twinkle growing in her eyes she grinned slyly and asked Cordy, “Fancy an espresso later?” then chuckled when her friend fell back on the grass and burst out laughing.

“Now that’s more like it,” Cordy eventually replied with a pleased smile, and they spent the rest of their lunch hour making plans for the coming evening.

**Author's Note:**

> (NB: The small scene in the class came from NOVEMBER WOMEN, a one-act play by Kate McGrath)


End file.
